Tag: CBT

Chris is a real person who reads this site and sent me an email. It turns out his fantasies are as fucked up as mine, so I wrote a story for him about how it all might turn out. I had some “happy endings” as I wrote it, and he reported a large one as he finished reading it. So, mission accomplished. I hope others have the same reaction. Let me know your thoughts, and remember that feedback and ideas are always welcome. (BTW, I’m the character “Matt” in the story, as with many of mine, which is my real first name. Loki I leave to your imagination.)

The Eagle Bar in Pittsburg had changed a lot since Loki purchased it a few years ago, remodeled it, and started hanging out there. But in many ways, it had returned to its heritage, the days when it was the premier gay S&M bar in Pennsylvania. There are lots of gay leather bars named “The Eagle,” but Loki had turned this one into something special, something exceptionally kinky and extreme. It was a commercial success he was proud to own, attracting patrons, both masters and slaves, from all over the Northeast and beyond.

Of course, Loki was always proud, and he had a lot to be proud of. He was especially proud of his pure Nordic heritage, believing it to be the master race. He was named after the smartest of the Norse gods, and the one who was often evil, and he viewed himself in many ways as the god Loki. It started with his gorgeous, muscled, Nordic body. He was 23, recently finished with college, and recipient of a massive inheritance. Buying and fixing up the bar was a trivial expense to him. Loki was into extremely dominant gay sex, so the bar was primarily a way to attract other guys he could dominate, torture, and fuck, and to show off his phenomenal blond physique. He also attracted a group of like-minded masters who shared his lust and joined in the fun. But he only associated with those who were also rich, fit, and good looking.

Loki always wore leather, but he was usually shirtless, sometimes with a masters’ leather harness to highlight his dominance. Unlike other leather bars, nudity and public sex were encouraged, and sometimes he wore nothing but his steel-toed leather boots, especially when he was but-fucking one of the slaves. That way he could show off how utterly massive his cock was. The boots were the etiquette at the bar – dominant males wore at least leather boots; submissive fags were barefoot and naked except for a possible slave collar, cock ring, nipple clips, or weights attached to their balls. There was a fully equipped torture chamber in the back complete with fuck stations, whipping posts, a rack, slings, and lots of other fun equipment with which a submissive could be restrained, tortured, and gang-raped. There was also no rule against having a slave bend over a bar stool to get its ass pummeled, which happened a lot, often with Loki doing the initial drilling before the rest of the bar joined in. All this required an “understanding” with the local cops, who got free drinks and admission along with the use of the subs of their choice. Loki had struck gold in the market and was attracting gay S&M enthusiasts from near and far. He charged a bundle and had already recovered his investment along with a tidy profit after only a couple of years. His bar was now well known nationally as the best place for intense gay S&M, with no limits. Loki wasn’t into limits. If a patron damaged one of the slaves Loki kept available as waters and sex objects, the patron just had to pay Loki a fine and cover the veterinary bill to get the animal repaired. The fine was a lot larger if it had to be replaced. Loki viewed himself as a deity entitled to punish his subjects however it pleased him to do so. And it pleased him a lot.

On this night, Loki was holding forth to some of his favorite fellow leather masters. He’d been gone for a few days and was describing a camping trip he’d especially enjoyed. He signaled to a nearby waiter, who knew the signal and quickly brought Loki a large stein of beer. At a second signal, the “waiter,” who was a sex slave named Matt (one of the ones Loki kept naked and confined to the bar) knelt under the table and unbuttoned the fly on Loki’s leather pants. The slave used its mouth to gently remove Loki’s hardening cock from his pants and swallow as much as it could of the giant penis. As soon as Loki felt the slave’s tongue on Loki’s dick, Loki released a load of piss down the slave’s throat, commenting to his buddies, “gotta make room for the next load of beer.” Everyone laughed, and the slave was soon occupied draining piss and getting beers for Loki’s audience. As each master finished his load, he kicked the slave in the nuts with his steel-toed boots to signal that the slave should now service another master. The slave’s balls were swollen from the multiple kicks, but it still maintained the required erection. Matt liked being kicked in the balls and used as a human urinal. Later, they’d get around to using Matt sexually, enjoying how utterly appreciative the animal was for the pain and humiliation it received – and deserved. But for now, they wanted to hear about Loki’s adventure.

“So. Master Loki, what were you up to? We know this was your annual renewal retreat, and we’re all dying to hear your story. From the way you’re celebrating, I am guessing it’s a good one. They always are.” (Loki’s buddies had long ago learned that flattering him helped keep them in his circle of sycophantic favorites. And, in fact, he was a great storyteller and his S&M activities were extreme and awesome. They inspired his entourage to some intense public orgasms.)

“Well, you’re not dying as much as the guy I just finished with. His name was Curtis, or Carl, or Chris or something like that. I think it was Chris. But it doesn’t matter. He didn’t really deserve a name. He was a total loser, but an entertaining and eager one. I’ll go with Chris. Or cum-slut. It actually began a couple months ago.”

Loki described how he had met Chris at the bar of a hotel in New York City. Chris was in New York marketing some product or other, and Loki had just closed a deal to buy the hotel. “The Eagle is really profitable, but I have a lot of money to invest, and renovating medium-quality hotels is a terrific investment. I’m going to turn that one into the best gay S&M hotel in the world, complete with a no limits bar modeled after this one. I was in the existing hotel bar having a drink with some fellow investors after we closed the deal, and I noticed this geeky-looking young dweeb staring at me. I get that a lot from gay guys, given my body and command of the room, so I wasn’t surprised or offended. I like being admired, and so do my buddies, who are all also major studs. We deserve it. The twink looked kind of interesting. He wasn’t a movie star or anything, but he wasn’t altogether bad looking and those geeky types frankly appeal to me as prospects for torture and sex. I invited him to join our group, which he did.

“I noticed you were staring at me and my buddies. Are you some sort of fag?”

“Sorry., sir. I didn’t mean to offend you. I am gay and yes, I think you guys are amazing looking, especially you. I was fantasizing about you tying me up and fucking me.”

That started a conversation Loki especially enjoyed. He interrogated Chris as to what he liked to do in terms of sex, and learned that the fag was very submissive and, at 28, a bit older than Loki. But he was not very experienced other than at sucking cock. Loki unzipped his fly and invited Chris to strip naked in front of everyone at the bar, kneel in front of Loki, and suck his dick. A bit to Loki’s surprise, Chris did so immediately and quite expertly, fully accepting Loki’s giant cock in his mouth all the way to its base and after a great suck session eagerly swallowing Loki’s gushing load of cum. It didn’t seem to bother Chris at all to have people staring at him while he degraded himself. Indeed, Chris quickly achieved a full erection. (Loki owned the bar, so he didn’t have to worry about rules. After all, this would soon be the norm for conduct there.) As Chris used his tongue to clean Loki’s dick and then thanked him for the honor of serving him, Loki asked what sort of limits Chris had. “I don’t think I have any, sir. For someone like you, I’d let you do whatever you want with me. I’d be happy to suck off your buddies, or if you prefer I could bend over a table and you could all butt-fuck me.” Loki was now truly interested, getting a full view of the dweeb’s body. It really wasn’t bad, and included a very appealing butt. Chris might be his kind of frag. He clearly had a promising attitude and sure knew how to suck cock. Loki ordered Chris a whisky without asking what Chris wanted, and continued the conversation with his naked guest. He learned that Chris was staying in room 558 in what was now Loki’s hotel, and that he was heading back to central Pennsylvania, near Pittsburg, after making some sales calls the next day.

“That’s probably bullshit about no limits, but I’ll give you a test and an offer. I’m staying in my penthouse, and my buddies and I are going to head there and have an orgy. We’ll want some slave fags to play with, and it will be very rough. We’ve arranged for some, but you can join the fun as a slave if you prove yourself obedient enough. So, stay naked and stay hard, put on this slave collar (Loki handed one to Chris), and go back to your room. Pack your shit and leave it in the room. Walk out with nothing but the collar, not even your room key, and be sure to maintain an erection. Then go to the elevator by walking completely around the floor so lots of people see you and ride to the penthouse. If you get arrested or thrown out of the hotel for being naked, that’s your problem. If someone asks what you’re doing, tell them you’re a worthless slave reporting for punishment and invite them to punish you. There will be a blindfold on the table by the door to enter the penthouse. Put that on and ring the doorbell. You’ll be used by my friends, including some very important people. I don’t want you able to blackmail them for the awful things I and hey will do to you. You also won’t know what is about to happen to you as you get tortured and fucked. I’ll decide what to do with you and your shit after I’m done with you. Understood?”

Chris was shocked, and a little afraid, but he was mostly excited and turned on, so he quickly agreed. He had lots of extreme fantasies and this fit perfectly with some of them. He couldn’t hide his reaction anyway, as his cock was now intensely hard, pointing toward the ceiling from all the pressure of his arousal. One of Loki’s buddies commented and they all laughed at Chris as he put on the slave collar. That made him blush but turned him on even more. He returned to his room and did exactly as instructed. He encountered about two dozen guests during his naked stroll, and was yelled at and threatened by all of them. He responded as instructed, and several of the guys decided to start the slave punishment early. Two punched him in the nuts, one spat on him, and another kicked him in the butt as he passed, sending Chris sprawling on the floor. Chris thanked them, offered to let them hit him, kick him, or spit on him again, and continued on his way when they were finished. (They all accepted a follow-on that involved punishing his exposed genitals.). To his surprise, none of this made him lose the erection. The humiliation and pain made it stronger.

After he put on the blindfold and rang the doorbell, Chris was dragged into the room and participated in an amazing orgy that lasted through the night. He had no idea how many guys were in the room, but he was sure each of them raped him at least once. He did know Loki had been the first, not only from comments being made but from the intense pain in his asshole as Loki brutally rammed him, laughing at the fact Chris was bleeding from his torn flesh as Loki enjoyed raping him. He was bent over the back of a low chair with his wrists and ankles tied to the chair’s legs to make it more convenient for them to enter his butt-hole and to highlight his vulnerability. That also made it easy to whip his butt and back, which were severely lacerated by early morning. He could feel the whip laying on his back between beatings, inviting the next tormentor. He also had lots of cocks inserted in his mouth, some to clean off after he’d been fucked, some to relieve themselves with a load of piss (no point leaving the room to use a toilet when a human urinal was available right there), and many were after a blow job – Chris’s favorite thing to do and his best skill. He loved sucking cock, especially in public.

Chris heard others screaming besides himself, so he knew he was not the only sex slave. But he also heard Loki encouraging the guests to be especially brutal to Chris. Chris felt honored. Late in the evening, one guest, who sounded particularly drunk, asked Loki if it would be OK to drag Chris to the balcony and throw him off so he could watch him fall to his death on the street below. Loki considered the idea, and acknowledged that would be fun. But he pointed out the death would be very quick and scum like Chris deserved longer and more painful sessions. Loki finally decided against the idea because it was too dark to get a clear view of the fall and the broken body on the street, and it might be bad press for the hotel. The conversation was another turn-on for Chris, which Loki noted.

After the rapes, Loki thrust a large, electrified dildo up Chris’ torn ass, which sent a stream of electricity through his body. It was astonishingly painful, and Chris provided very satisfying screams to entertain Loki and his guests. Loki had a remote control to vary the voltage, but soon grew tired of that and just left it on full power. They laughed as they watched Chris’s body writhing in pain.

Eventually Chris was released from the chair and tied to a rack. The guests took bets on which setting of the rack would result in Chris’s arms being pulled out of the shoulder sockets, and there was lots of cheering when that happened, after very slow increases to make sure Chris felt all the pain. This also allowed easy access to whip his chest and torture his nipples and genitals. The electrified dildo up his ass assured there were no breaks in the pain inflicted on the group’s newfound sex toy. The constant writhing from the dildo and other sources of torture assured everyone had a chance to enjoy his suffering, but they also noticed and some were even impressed with his continued erection. Loki thoughtfully helped keep in hard by inserting a metal rod down the piss-slit, although he also attached the rod to an electrical source that heated it up and burned the inside of Chris’s cock. The screaming from that caused Chris to go hoarse.

The evening ended for Chris after he was released from the rack and ordered to masturbate for the guests. That was nearly impossible with his dislocated arms pretty much useless, but he was eager to do so. As he began his orgasm he felt a massive pain in his balls. He had been hit hard by Loki, who used a pair of brass knuckles to enhance the effect. Loki was exceptionally strong as well as exceptionally beautiful, and Chris’ orgasm turned to agony. He vomited form the pain, which was followed by a succession of beatings that left him unconscious and covered in his own cum and vomit, along with his own piss that was released as he passed out. The guests cheered Loki and most added their own piss and/or cum to further drench Chris’ body in waste.

When Chris awoke later that morning, he was still naked and realized he had been dumped in a trash bin on the street, as had been his luggage. His arms were still mostly useless form the dislocation, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to climb out. Worse yet, he realized he had been dumped on top of another naked young male, but this one was dead. The corpse had been emasculated and was a mess of broken bones and ripped flesh, with a gaping wound in its belly. Chris was now not only covered with the vomit, cum, and piss from his own torment, but with the blood of his trash-mate. He further realized that someone had taken a shit on him.

Loki had made sure there was a videographer to record the fun of watching Chris deal with his situation, and a cop to arrest Chris for indecent exposure and sleeping on the streets. Loki later arranged for the photos and video, clearly showing how messed up Chris’ body was, to be sent to Chris’s Facebook friends (there weren’t many) and to his boss. Loki had had one of his assistants go through Chris’s stuff and get all his personal data. These included Chris pissing and masturbating. Chris desperately needed to empty his bladder, but being stuck in the dumpster he wound up mostly pissing on himself. Chis also needed to release some of the sexual tension he still felt. The sight and touch of the mutilated naked corpse had done nothing to turn that off. He correctly concluded that the party had indeed wound up with a fag being dumped over the side of the penthouse balcony, and he found that sexually exciting, if messy. A part of him wondered why he had not been selected. It took him a long time to stroke himself to orgasm, given the dislocation, but his cock was super hard and he added fresh cum to the fresh piss, which spewed over his body and added to the dried waste with which he was covered.

The cop waited before arresting Chris to enjoy the show and allow for a longer and more embarrassing video. The photos and video featured the welts on Chris’s body along with the fact he was covered in vomit, cum, shit, blood, and piss. They also showed his rock-hard cock, which remained hard after he had the orgasm in the trash bin, reflecting his sexual arousal even after all that had happened – or maybe because of it.

As Loki had requested, the cop did not let Chris dress before taking him to the police station, although he did use a nearby garden hose to wash Chris off so the cop wouldn’t have to smell him. Once Chris was out of the dumpster the local garbage service picked it up and hauled it away. The corpse would never be found, nor its disappearance likely noticed. Who would possibly give a shit about a dead fag? Chris remained naked through the brief hearing, after which he was put in jail. There were a dozen or so other guys in the holding cell, who gang-raping him as the cop invited them to do.

Chris had a lot of explaining to do when he paid his fine after a night in jail (where he again got gang-raped this time also including the guards) and finally returned home. Bad as all that that had happened was in so many ways, however, Chris knew he’d make the same choice all over again. Indeed, his main regret was that he had no idea who Loki was or whether he’d ever see him again.

“I enjoyed torturing and fucking Chris, as did my friends. He was the most submissive fag I’ve seen in a long while – even more pathetic than Matt here.” Loki had just gotten another refill from his bar slave. As Matt left the table Loki kicked him in the butt, causing Matt to stumble and drop the tray of empties he was holding. Loki made it clear to Matt that he’d be severely punished later for being so clumsy. Matt sincerely apologized and acknowledged he deserved severe punishment. That began immediately as one of the other patrons amused himself by whipping and kicking Matt as he cleaned up the mess. But that would only be a start.

“I left the little shit alone for a month or so, so his cuts and shoulder would heal. I don’t like using damaged goods. But I kept track of him and was amused to see his life fall apart. He lost his job, of course, and his friends all “unfriended” him. He had about two months’ savings, and I arranged to ruin his credit rating to get his credit card cancelled and keep him from getting loans. I waited until his money was gone. I also made sure that any employer he applied to got a copy of the video. He was totally broke and isolated. I’d even managed to fuck up his ability to get unemployment payments, so he was down to nothing. He had to sell his car, and sell the cool electronic gadgets he owned on eBay. About all he had left was some clothes and his phone, and he was at the point where he had to vacate his apartment in a day or so. I’d read his medical records and knew he tended to get depressed, which is what I wanted. Then I texted him an invitation to contact me, telling him the next encounter would be a lot worse for him. I was pretty sure he would respond right away, and the dumb-shit did. That’s the encounter I just returned from.”

Loki turned philosophical. “There are lots of submissive scum out there, like this parenthetic bar slave. I enjoy torturing and fucking them, but the problem is they enjoy it too much. I’ve provided a wonderful place for Matt at the bar. He likes being beaten and humiliated in public, and he loves sucking cock and getting butt-fucked. Piss and cum are his favorite drinks these days, and he gets to drink a lot of each. Being displayed naked in public is another turn-on, and it’s in my best interest to let him work out a lot so he stays attractive and fit. I let him eat left-overs from what he serves at the bar, although I piss and shit on it to be sure it’s disgusting. He even accepts that as his due, eating and drinking from a dog dish. When I decide to snuff him, he won’t resist at all, knowing it’s my right and he deserves as horrible a death as I can dream up. I’m starting to plan that, by the way, since he’s not able to hold an erection as long as he could before we all started kicking his nuts. They are now damaged and the vet says it would cost a lot to repair them. He also is showing the scars from all the whipping. And that’s also part of what I provide him. He has no decisions to make. He doesn’t have to worry about whether it’s worth it to repair his nuts; I do that for him. And he doesn’t have to worry about his career, or what to wear (the group laughed as Matt’s naked body came into sight), what to eat, where to sleep, when to piss or shit, or how to make or keep friends – he isn’t permitted any so it’s simple. And all I ask in return is total obedience and the right to do whatever I want with him while he’s alive, and to snuff him whenever and however it amuses me to do so. Oh, and I get to fuck his dead body and use it for food or fertilizer, or both. For a worthless piece of shit like Matt, it’s a great deal. In fact, sometimes I think I’m too generous to these slaves, but that’s just how I am.

“But Matt has a flaw. He’ll shoot a great final orgasm as he dies, which we’ll all enjoy watching. But he doesn’t YEARN to be killed. He has a place and purpose in the world. It’ll be fun to torture him to death, of course, but it’s more fun when a scum-bag begs for it. That’s what I saw as a potential with Chris. He deserved to die a horrible death, he knew it, and he desperately wanted it. I just pushed him along a little faster to those realizations by destroying everything in his life that might matter to him. I was doing him a favor. Like I said, sometimes I’m just too generous.

“That’s why I didn’t let my buddies throw him over the edge at my party. Chris not only had the right potential attitude, but he’d showed some courage in pursuing it. It’s a rare twink who will strip naked in a public bar, let alone accept the challenge of my invitation. I liked the look of his body, and he intrigued me. So, I vetoed throwing him off the edge. That would have been a waste. My buddies weren’t too happy about my decision, as we all had a whole lot of blood lust as we kept partying. By early morning, as it started to get light, I realized the party wouldn’t be a success unless my guests and I got to snuff one of the fags. So, we played a variation of “Non-Survivor” where the slave fags vote to decide which of them literally gets thrown off the island – that is, the balcony. They get into it big time, and it’s fun to watch them maneuver to not be selected. They’re all prostitutes who know each other well, and old grudges surface fast. And since the alternative is that we’ll throw them all off the balcony, they enthusiastically play along. It was fairly soon when one of the fats was selected, despite all his begging for mercy. So, we beat the shit out of the “winner” and then I cut off his cock and balls. He was still alive, but not by much. The point was that he was alive and aware enough to scream wonderfully as we carried him to the edge of the balcony and tossed him into thin air. It was light enough to give us a pleasant view of him flaying wildly as he fell 15 stories. The most fun, though, was the fact he hit the top of the flag pole in front of the hotel, which impaled him right in the belly. When we remodel I’m going to add some sharp spikes at various points so we can play target practice. The goal will be to impale the fag in the butt or nuts. That will be a lot of fun.

“Chris responded to my text as I expected, saying he wanted to see me again, no matter what was planned. He said he was at the end of his rope and he really didn’t care what I did to him. I found that pretty amusing my plans – and promising.”

Loki had texted back, telling Chris about a secluded camp ground 7 miles out of town that Loki owned and enjoyed. “I am sending an Uber to pick you up. Once again, you must be naked. It adds to your humiliation. The Uber will arrive in 14 minutes. Be out front.”

Chris was thrilled and did as instructed, not even bothering to bring the keys to his apartment. It wasn’t his anymore, and he sensed he would not be returning. The Uber driver made fun of him being naked, especially since Chris had developed an erection thinking about Loki and what might be in store for Chris. Being ridiculed didn’t bother Chris. He was excited sexually and emotionally.

When Chris was dropped off at the designated spot he saw Loki standing at the trail head next to his Lamborghini. Loki was naked except for his signature steel-toed leather boots, and Chris literally gasped at the sight of him. Chris was aware Loki had been named to a god, but now realized that Loki was indeed a god. No mere mortal could have a body that spectacular, or that dominant. Every aspect of Loki’s blond frame was perfect, from his chiseled Aryan face to his broad, sculpted shoulders, massive chest, exceptional abs, and powerful legs. But it was Loki’s manhood that generated the gasp. Chris had realized its size when he sucked Loki off, and felt it when he was raped. But now he saw it in its full splendor. He had assumed stories of 12 in cocks were just bragging fiction, but this was a weapon at least that long, and equivalently think. No wonder Chris’s ass had hurt so much after the orgy and was still bleeding the next day. Loki’s balls were similarly huge, with a scrotum that hung halfway to his knees. As Chris recovered from encountering this male deity, he did what seemed natural to him. He knelt in front of Loki and begged him to take and use Chris however Loki wished.

Loki said nothing. He pointed to the hood of his car, and Chris instantly understood what he was to do. He quickly went and bent over the hood so that his ass would be conveniently available. The hood was very hot from the recent journey and burned Chris’s chest, but that obviously didn’t matter. When Loki rammed his hard dick into Chris, Chris was in ecstasy with both pain and pleasure. He had no doubt his innards were again ripped open, but that was what he wanted. Anything to please Loki, and the more pain Chris endured the better. Loki was in no hurry, and the fucking lasted for over 30 minutes before Loki shot a massive load into Chris. After emptying his load, Loki inserted the electrified dildo into Chris that he’d used during the orgy. This time Chris did not scream, recognizing that he deserved to be in constant, extreme pain. Chris was then permitted to again kneel in front of Loki, who used his boot to kick Chris hard in nuts. Chris was then permitted to use his tongue to clean the dick and his mouth to accept a load of piss. Chris was struggling not to shoot his own load, but knew he was not permitted even to ask permission to do that. Loki was in control of all aspects of Chris’s body. Chris had become the totally dominated animal he always knew he should be.

Loki spoke for the first time, pointing to a large backpack on the ground next to the car. “You are to carry that and follow me. It cantinas the implements I will use to restrain and torture you, plus what I wish to have for my comfort for the night.”

The two men hiked silently for about six miles to a beautiful campsite next to a pristine river. There was a supply pf wood next to the campsite, among other implements, and Loki pointed to it as where Chris was to put the backpack. It was late afternoon and Loki took a flint form the backpack and used it to start a fire. He also instructed Chris to bathe in the river to clean off his sweat and properly prepare is body for Loki’s use. The water was ice cold, but even that did not dampen Chris’s erection. After Chris was done, he next fetched water in a pail that Loki then placed over the fire. In due course, Loki bathed himself with fresh, warm river water. Both men were refreshed form their hike.

Loki next reached into the backpack and pulled out a series of implements, including a rope with a noose tied at one end. “Put this around your neck and toss the loose end over the branch on that tree.” Chris did as instruct, and Loki then grabbed the loose end of the rope and pulled on it slowly until Chris’s feet were slightly off the ground. The noose did not tighten so it did not completely cut off Chris’s breathing, although in time the pressure on his neck would strangle him. Chris realized this, but also knew it was OK so long as that is what Loki wanted to have happen. He only hoped Loki would get more use out of him than just a simple hanging.

Loki was not ready for Chris to die yet. “I do not plan for you to die tonight, although I may change my mind. But I do plan for you to suffer.” With that Loki picked up a whip and sued his great strength to brutally began lash his victim, starting with the chest and abs so he could enjoy the look of pain on Chris’s face, but proceeding to the back and butt to be sure every part of Chris was in pain. As the body swayed back and forth under the whip strokes, it had the desired effect of making it even harder for Chris to breath. Loki was expert at torture, and made sure Chris did not suffocate. He also monitored the lashing so that he did not break the skin. He had other uses for this body.

Loki noted with satisfaction that Chris remained erect. Part of that was, of course, the effect of being hanged, but mostly it was Chris’s sexual needs being met. Loki approved, since having the cock stick out like that made it more fun to whip.

“What do you have to say for yourself, slave?”

“Thank you for using me, Master.”

“What do you want me to do with you?”

“Whatever you want, Master. I have no will of my own any more. I am your property to use and dispose of as you wish.”

“And does that include killing you?”

“Yes, Master. Being killed by you would be an honor. It is more than I deserve.”

“That is correct. I will consider your fate. But tonight, you must prepare yourself. As you know, I am Loki, and Loki is a god. You are but a piece of meat. But you may achieve the wisdom to fully embrace your fate as the great God Odin once did. To achieve wisdom, he allowed himself to be tied naked to a tree and endured the elements. That is your task between now and tomorrow morning, and you are to consider how great the honor would be if I take your life to enhance slightly one of my orgasms during my annual contemplative retreat. I return to this place each year to reconnect with my heritage and with Odin, and I sacrifice male meat as Odin requires. You are to beg for that honor, realizing how utterly worthless your life is. And you are to suggest ways in which I might make use of your body before and after you die.”

“But first, you must be labeled for what you are – my property.” Loki proceeded to the fire, where he had placed a branding iron. It was now red hot, and he retrieved it and approached the beaten body hanging by its neck. The lettering was small and the message was simple: “Property of Loki.” He branded Chris in two places, enjoying the aromatic smell of burning flesh and the inhuman screams of his victim. One was on his right pec just above the nipple, and the other was on his back just below the neck. Despite the extreme pain, Chris was thrilled and grateful. “Thank you, Master. It is generous of you to accept my body as your property. I know this includes your right to end my life as you wish.”

Loki continued to torture Chris for several more hours, enjoying not only whipping him but also using his brass knuckles to once again attack Chris’s balls, which swelled considerably from the blows. “I want you to remain in pain throughout the night. Some of that can be achieved through the dildo, which I will leave inside you at full power. But I want your whole body to suffer.” With that statement, Loki lowered Chris to the ground and released the noose. He had observed the youth was starting to lose his ability to breath, and didn’t want Chris to die so easily. The twink collapsed, choking.

“I have worked up a sweat punishing you. And so, have you. Once again cleanse yourself in the river, and fetch me some water so I can heat it up and cleanse myself. Then you may have the honor of sucking my cock and drinking my piss.” Chris, of course, did exactly as instructed, and greatly enjoyed sucking the massive cock. He choked on it a few times, of course, and Loki kicked him in the balls for doing so, but he was overall very successful, and the hot cum streaming down his throat was totally satisfying, as was the piss that soon followed it.

“Stand by that tree with your back to it. Then spread out your arms and legs.” Loki approached Chris with long strands of rope. He tied both the hands and the feet so that the rope reached around the tree and firmly held each in place. Chris was now spread-eagled, firmly fastened to the tree. Loki next attached a rope around Chris’s neck, which was also strung around the tree to further secure his body. Loki was quite pleased with the arousing site of this young willing victim standing naked, fastened to a tree, branded for what he was, with his cock massively erect. Loki at times believed himself to actually be one of the Norse gods, and felt this is what his father Odin would want by way of sacrifice.

But there was not yet enough pain. Loki approached Chris and reminded him that he was to spend the night in extreme pain throughout his body. Chris understood and once again thanked Loki for assuring he suffered adequately. As he finished, Loki again used his great strength, this time to bend Chris’s right arm so that he completely broke the elbow. Chris screamed, but again expressed his thanks. He did so again three times, as his left elbow and both knees were also rendered forever useless. The body was now in total pain as Loki had planned.

“It is now time for my dinner, and for you to begin your night of pain and contemplation. You will contribute here as well. While I have brought other meat to cook, I wish to start with something entirely fresh. You have no further need to produce sperm, so I am removing your testicles. You will watch me eat them. If I decide to let you have a final orgasm, the sperm you already have in your body will suffice.”

Loki cut very slowly into Chris’s scrotum to prolong the pain. He removed each testicle slowly and had Chris lick it clean. Then he consumed it in front of its prior owner. Loki finished by cauterizing the wound so Chris would not bleed to death overnight. But that was only to keep his victim alive for further tortures.

Chris was mostly overcome by pain at first, but as the evening turned into night he recovered enough to contemplate what was happening. He was now castrated and his limbs were broken. He had anticipated meeting with Loki would be fatal, but had no idea there would be this much pain. But he also had no idea it would be this thrilling. He was fulfilling Loki’s need to dominate, and that was far more important than Chris’s life and a wonderful use for Chris’s body. He genuinely looked forward to completing his contribution the next morning by dying some sort of horrible death, hoping it would meet Loki’s expectations. As he watched Loki finish his meal and settle down for a good night’s sleep on a comfortable air mattress under the stars, the sense of gratitude was far greater than the sense of pain.

. . . . .

Chris was unable to sleep that night due to the combination of pain and excitement, so he had the thrill of watching Loki wake up as the sun rose. The human deity stretched his beautiful body and stroked his enormous cock. He rose, pleased to see his human sacrifice still alive but clearly without any rest. That was how he wanted it.

Loki left Chris tied to the tree while he enjoyed a hearty breakfast he retrieved from the backpack and from several coolers that had been placed near the fire pit before the two men had arrived. Only then did he turn his attention to the broken animal he was enjoying so much. So far, this piece of meat had greatly exceeded his expectation, and he felt confident it would also do so as it died.

“So, meat, what have you to propose for the use of your worthless body? And are you still anxious to forfeit your pathetic life for my fleeting pleasure?”

“I am, Master. I am just hopeful you will inflict a death that fully pleases you through its length and cruelty. As for my body, I suggest you consider me as food. And there is no reason you should not enjoy fucking me after I’m’ dead and before my flesh cools. Perhaps, by way of an ongoing use, you might find use for my skin as a source of leather for you attire. But perhaps that is too forward on my part. I know I do not deserve that level of honor.”

Loki was completely pleased. This was exactly what he wanted to hear, and it was also how he had planned to use the twink.

“you finally got something right, slave. You will have the great honor of me torturing you to death this morning, And I will use your body as you suggest, since that is what I planned. Indeed, from the time you stepped naked in the bar to get to suck me off, I concluded that your skin would convert nicely to leather. You will be preserved as my new leather jacket, something vastly more important than your life. The branding I did yesterday was strategically placed and will survive the leathermaking process, and everyone will know the jacket is mine.”

Loki untied Chris from the tree and led, or mostly carried, the body over to the branch where it had been hanged the afternoon before. He attached a different noose around Chris’s neck, but this time didn’t raise Chris above the ground. The noose just held him upright, as this was one designed to tighten under the weight of a body, which meant it and that would fatally choke Chris when Chris was lifted by the rope. Loki needed the youth to breath, at last for a while. He didn’t bother to tie Chris’s wrists behind his back as is traditional for a hanging. He knew there would be no resistance. And even if Chris tried, his arms were no longer functional.

Loki began by gutting Chris just above the cock, inserting the knife deeply and slowly cutting upward. This was a favorite method of torture for Loki as he knew how amazingly painful it was for the victim. Chris was no exception and Loki especially enjoyed the screams as they took on more of the sound of a n animal than a person. After all, that’s what Chris always was.

“I like to start by opening up the guts and removing some of the innards that aren’t very eatable,” Loki explained as he slowly cut upward toward the base of the rib cage. He made a sideways cut at the top and then peeled back the skin to reveal the organs inside. Loki cut out and removed various organs, showing them to Chris as he pulled them out. But he was careful to tie off the arteries and veins to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Loki was quite expert at this, having majored in human anatomy in college so he could be a more effective torturer. He put the organs in one of two coolers. Things that could be prepared for a delicious meal, like the liver, were in one cooler. Other parts that weren’t suitable went into the other cooler. “I personally like liver, and I’m confident yours will be delicious,” he explained. “But I don’t want to be wasteful, and I’ll feed parts like your intestines and stomach to the slaves who work in my bar. It will be fun to watch, and it’s probably even nutritious.”

Loki next turned to skinning Chris alive, which was a skill and task Loki also enjoyed and was very good at doing. His knife continued to Chris’s chest, but this time not at all keep. Loki peeled off the young skin he’d admired so much, and in a brief time Chris’s chest and belly were skinless. His back, legs, and arms soon followed, with Loki carefully assuring the skin came off in large sections to make it easier to prepare the leather. It was a tribute to Loki’s remarkable skill that Chris remained alive, albeit missing a lot of his insides and all the skin on his body.

But now it was time for Chris to die. Loki pulled on the rope so that Chris was now off the ground, with the noose tightening as he continued to writhe in utter agony. But there was no sudden fall of the body to break the neck as in a traditional execution. Loki wanted Chris to die as slowly as possible, and this would happen due to being suffocated as the noose tightened around his neck. While the vivisection and the skinning were enough to prove fatal, Loki enjoyed the look of terror on the face of a victim who was slowly deprived of oxygen.

“you’ll be dead pretty soon, and I’ll enjoy watching you suffer until then. When you die, by the way, you will have an orgasm. I didn’t let you cum earlier while you were alive not only because I don’t want you to feel pleasure, but because you wouldn’t have had any sperm stored up after I ate your balls. No one knows if there’s any sexual satisfaction form an orgasm that is triggered by death, as it’s mostly a bodily function of blood flow to the cock. I hope there isn’t any, as you don’t deserve it, but I am confident the agony and terror of death will be the greater reaction. I do know it’s a whole lot of fun to watch a young male body cum and go at the same time.

The blood loss form being gutted, skinned, and robbed of internal organs meant Chris did not last much longer. But there was some entertainment as his survival instinct kicked in and his useless arms tried to reach the noose. Loki hadn’t expected that and laughed out loud. It was really amusing. Chris also didn’t disappoint on the orgasm front. His cock had remained hard, as usually happens with guys getting hanged, and as his body began the final death spasms the cock erupted, squirting out a massive and powerful load of cum.

Loki was quite pleased. He was also thoroughly aroused, and quickly cut down the body for its sexual use. He entered the asshole for the last time, enjoying the warmth and the pressure generated as the fag completed its final death convulsions. Fucking guys as they died was Loki’s favorite sex act. The intensity of his orgasm more than justified the trivial sacrifice of Chris’s young life.

. . . .

Loki finished his story to the appreciation of his audience just as dinner was served. As the group began their meal there were lots of questions.

“So how did the jacket turn out?” Loki reached down and showed off his new attire. It was expertly done, and he pointed out how well the branding had worked out. Chris was now clearly “property of Loki.” And Loki also pointed out a feature he’d added. “I thoroughly enjoyed watching the meat burst into its final orgasm, so I kept the cock, and used it as the pull for the zipper.” Everyone admired the preserved cock hanging down from the zipper, the only part of Chris that would generate a memory.

“And what about the meat? Did the slaves enjoy the intestines? And did the choice parts cook up well?”

“We’re going to feature a ‘feast’ of the slaves eating the loser’s innards right after dinner as a start to tonight’s sex and torture fun. We can add some piss and shit to enhance the flavor. As for the prime cuts, please let me know. Personally, I think the meat did indeed turnout to be delicious.” And with that, Loki cut himself a second large piece of twink breast meat.

This site features wonderful stories of alpha males torturing to death worthless male scum, and a few about those of us who realize our pathetic status cooperating in the events.

But it’s Thanksgiving, and time to stop and consider all the wonderful families, and family traditions, that are so positive. This is a story of a wonderful family, a community that appreciates them, and an inspiring young male who is given a chance to give back. I hope you enjoy it – and always welcome and appreciate ay feedback.

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and Matt was excited as he approached the door of the Wilkins mansion. It was a huge estate, and it had taken him ten minutes just to walk from the main gate to the front door, after being admitted by one of the guards. Nervous and anxious about whether he was good enough to deserve the honor that awaited him, he hardly noticed the wonderful holiday decorations that lined the path to celebrate the start of the holiday season, from outdoor tree lights to decorated statues of reindeer pulling sleighs. Snow covered the yard, creating a beautiful winter wonderland, as befits a home that thoroughly enjoys the holidays and has the means to do so. Ordinarily, Matt would have reveled in the surroundings, since this was also his favorite time of year, but he was just too excited. Nervously, he rang the bell as he had been instructed to do.

The Wilkins family was by far the wealthiest in the small Southern town where Matt lived, and in fact they pretty much ran the place, owning most of it, as they had done for many generations. It was a large family, and everyone respected them not only for their wealth and power, but also for what wonderful people they all appeared to be and the generosity they always showed others. Matt attended the local high school with one of the boys, Jim, before graduating and getting a job in one of their factories. Despite their vast difference in prestige and wealth, Jim had treated Matt as a real friend, never belittling him or any of the other kids or taking advantage. Indeed, Matt had been to the mansion before for Jim’s birthday parties and other events, which took advantage of their huge, manicured grassy yard for a vigorous football game and their Olympic sized pool in which they played water polo and had a really fun water fight. Those parties were among Matt’s favorite memories of high school.

Matt’s own situation wasn’t all that great, as he’d been thrown out by his step-father and forced to live on his own since he was 15. That’s because Matt let it leak out that he was gay, and that was unacceptable. Fortunately, a Wilkins family trust had set up a shelter for homeless teens, and he was able to live there until he could finish high school and support himself. The fact he was gay didn’t bother them at all, and he and Jim had “experimented” many times to see if Jim liked gay sex. He did, and it helped make them even closer friends, although not really lovers. Jim wanted to keep his options open, which Matt fully understood. That didn’t stop him from being allowed to suck Jim’s cock or let Jim shove it into Matt’s very tight and willing asshole. Matt thought Jim’s sperm tasted particularly good when Jim shot his load into Matt’s mouth, and was very willing to clean off the cock after the load went up Matt’s ass.

Matt had been one of about 50 local male teens who had applied to join the Wilkins’ family as their guest for Thanksgiving. He was surprised and thrilled when he learned he’d been chosen. It was a tradition the Wilkins’ enjoyed that was a bit unusual, but everyone in town agreed that it was appropriate given all that the family did for the town. So, lots of young guys applied and it was a real honor to be selected, even including a feature in the local newspaper.

After Matt rang the bell, it did not take long for him to hear someone approaching the door, and he was pleased that it was Jim who answered.

“Welcome,” Jim greeted him sincerely. “You’re right on time. And, if I may say so, I’m delighted to see you’re happy to be here. That’s kind of impressive given the snow.”

Matt appreciated the warmth of the welcome, and they both laughed at Jim’s reference. Part of Matt’s instructions had been to show up naked, and the thrill of being featured at the Wilkins’ Holiday tradition had gotten him sexually excited. He was sporting a very enthusiastic erection despite the wintry weather.

“Well, being inside will help keep it that way, and of course it’s available to entertain you if you’d like,” Matt responded. While Jim’s favorite activity was butt-fucking Matt when they were together, Jim also enjoyed watching Matt jerk off for Jim’s entertainment.

“Come right in — and I have no doubt you’ll cum again,” Jim continued the joke. “I probably will make some use of your eager little cock, since dad says you can spend the night in my room. But that’s later, and probably only after you’ve entertained everyone else first. Many of the guys who join us get all nervous and can’t keep their pricks hard, which isn’t as much fun. In fact, last year we picked Dan Young – remember him from football? But Dan was a total dud in that respect and never did manage to shoot a load, although he was a nice kid nonetheless and we had a good Thanksgiving. I’m sure you’ll get a chance to show off.

“Meanwhile, the rest of the family is here and they want to get going with planning for tomorrow. So how about if you sort of hold the thought — or maybe hold the cock? Do keep it hard, as they’ll like that. Last year’s experience with Dan made things a little less fun. That’s part of the reason we all wanted to try inviting a gay guy this year, and I know you’ve shot some great loads while all of us watched during my parties here.”

“No problem. The event turns me on, so I’ll just not try to hide it. Being hard and staying that way is, after all, my great skill.” The two friends laughed loudly at their exchange, both very turned on by the conversation.

Matt stoked his cock to assure it stayed firm and Jim led him into the main family room, where everyone had gathered. Jim was wearing shorts, sneakers, and a very tight T-shirt that featured his impressive physique. Matt was quite content to walk behind him and admire Jim’s backside. The thought of spending the night with Jim assured Matt’s continued arousal.

“See, I told you he’d arrive right on time. And look, he’s even happy to see us.” Jim pointed at Matt’s cock as he made his introduction, and everyone chuckled.

“That’s a nice muscle you have there, son,” Mr. Wilkins observed.

“Jim says it spurts nicely too, and that you also have a nice, tight butthole. He says you’re gay and that you two have been enjoying some fairly intense guy time.”

“Yes, sir,” Matt replied, surprised how open Jim was with his father, and how it was obviously no big deal at all. “But I must acknowledge that Jim’s is a little bigger, and he has been expanding my backside a bit from time to time.” Matt wanted to complement his friend, given how gracious Jim had always been to him, and his suspicion that Jim had been the one who assured Matt’s selection.

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed when we have family orgies. Jim and his brothers usually put on a pretty good show for the rest of us before they submit to the demands of their sisters and cousins. I think it’s sort of a Wilkins tradition to go both ways, and it sure makes for great parties. We’re planning one tonight as part of our Thanksgiving preparations, as you may be aware, so I hope you’ll feel free to join in however you’d like. In fact, guests should be arriving about now, so how about if we all get naked?”

With that, Mr. Wilkins began to strip, and the rest of the family followed suit. Once Jim was out of his clothes, Matt could see that he was indeed interested, showing off his own impressive manhood at full attention. What surprised Matt was the size of Mr. Wilkins’s penis, as it too was quickly erect. Jim had two brothers, twin teenagers who were just a little younger than Jim. They were also eager participants in the display of manhood. Jim’s mother and sisters were also there, but they did not immediately get undressed. Instead, they made rude comments on the males as they compared and rated the male equipment on display.

The guests did indeed show up shortly after the males stripped, and Matt recognized many of them. There were about 10 others, and the newly arrived males quickly got naked as Mr. Wilkins offered everyone drinks and a waiter arrived with elegant appetizers. The waiter was a wonderfully handsome and well built black male of about 18, with light-colored skin that suggested a mixed heritage. He was dressed only in a formal bow tie, and had the largest cock in the room. Mr. Wilkins introduced him to Matt as one of his illegitimate sons, noting that the stud’s mother and her husband would be joining them shortly as soon as she finished her chores.

“We’ve long ago gotten over our silly prejudices, and all of us like to have sex together. I’m pretty sure I’m Tom’s father, but not absolutely so. It might be one of my cousins, or even his legal father. But he seems a little light-skinned for that. It doesn’t matter of course, His legal father has certainly had lots of fun with my wife and the rest of our family — both men and women. Heck, we’re not really sure if Bill there is my kid or if he was conceived when his older cousin got a little carried away with his mother. But who cares?”

Once the food was served, the beautiful young black waiter was invited to join the party. Matt hoped he’d be able to show that he too had no prejudices by offering the gorgeous young black male Matt’s eager white body as a sex toy.

While the food and drink were appealing, the real appeal was the collection of sexually attractive naked male bodies, and Matt quickly understood the rules on how the orgy would begin. The women were in charge, and the guys had to suck and fuck each other exactly as instructed. The women had removed their outer garments, revealing stunning outfits that showed their roles as dominatrix’s. Mr. Wilkins had made a quick announcement once everyone arrived, before everyone got into the orgy:

“Welcome everyone. This is my favorite holiday, which is why we’ve made it a two-day event. And as always, we’re starting with an orgy among our very favorite friends and relatives. But first let me introduce Matt here, who has been selected as our guest of honor. I should let you know he’s gay, so he’ll probably prefer fucking with the guys, but obviously that’s up to the women, since they’re in charge for our first round of fun. I do know that Jim thinks pretty highly of his rather cute behind.”

Matt had never participated in a real orgy, although it had always been a fantasy of his, and it turned out to be a lot more exciting than he had even imagined. Like the rest of the males, he was turned on by the fact of being directed by the women, who were polite and confined the use of his body to male sex only. Under their direction, all the guys took turns having sex with him, since it turned out that one of the characteristics of the Wilkins family was that everyone was bi-sexual. They chose their friends the same way. Matt was fucked and sucked, and he had lots of fun sucking off the eager cocks that were presented for him to service. Matt was particularly turned on when one of Jim’s sisters ordered Matt to butt-fuck Jim, which Matt had not done before even though Jim frequently plugged Matt’s hole. She made it particularly exciting by tying Jim face down on a fuck-horse that had been brought into the middle of the room for that sort of use.

“It’s about time Jim developed a little humility,” his sister said. “He’s been far too proud of that cock of his, and he hasn’t been on the receiving end near enough.” With that, she ordered all the males to fuck Jim once Matt was done, and even strapped on a dildo herself to add to the fun. The other women liked that idea, so Jim got fucked by literally everyone at the orgy. Matt was pleased that he had been allowed to go first, and Jim was a very good sport about the fun at his expense. His hard cock stayed that way as he was fucked, so it was clear he wasn’t too unhappy.

It didn’t take too long before the orgy changed from its dominatrix theme to just an all-American fuck fest. Couples coupled at will, and there were clearly no limits on what was permitted. A few of them started an S&M theme, and Matt found himself getting a thorough whipping on his back by one of the twins while the other twin sucked his cock. He found that surprisingly enjoyable, albeit painful. Matt also got a bit bold, and inquired of the young black dude who had so turned him on if there was any way Matt could please him sexually. It was no time at all after that when Matt felt the pleasure of a huge black cock up his ass, culminating in a spasm of cum filling Matt’s hole that sent Matt’s own cock into orgasm yet again.

The party lasted for hours, moving from an orgy to a drinking festival, with lots of friendly conversations. Everyone was extremely nice to Matt, and he felt this was the best night of his life. It had never occurred to him that the Wilkins family would include him the way they had done. He had assumed he’d just show up for the Thanksgiving dinner.

After everyone was exhausted and sexually spent, Mr. Wilkins suggested they all gather around on the sofas to figure out the events for the next day.

“Well, that was a fun start,” he began. But keep in mind we don’t need to end the fun. Feel free to pick and swap sex partners for the rest of the evening and throughout the night. There are lots of bedrooms, and no need to confine ourselves to just one — or even two or three!” The family and guests clapped and cheered, and it was obvious that people were lining up possibilities for their next sessions.

“Matt, we like to plan in some detail for our feast, so I wonder if you’d mind standing in the middle, here on this coffee table. If you could get hard again that would be great, but given how many times I noticed you cum I will understand if you’re tapped out.”

Matt was more than happy to oblige and put himself on display. Matt got a nice round of applause and a cheer when his penis achieved its full size. He was quite pleased with himself, and not the least self-conscious as he stood naked and hard in the middle of the room with everyone staring at his young, firm body.

“Great. Well done, Matt. I think you may be our best feature yet.

“So, how much do you weigh?”

“145 pounds, sir.”

“Great. It looks like there’s not much fat, so that probably means 8 hours cooking time with our special oven, after we remove some of the internal organs that don’t cook well and drain the fluids. What time do people want to eat tomorrow?”

There was a consensus, after minimal conversations that dinner at around 5 pm would work well.

“OK, that means the meat will need to go in the oven at 9 am. It usually takes me about an hour to prepare the carcass and get all the seasonings and stuffing in place, so that means we need to have the beheading promptly at 8. Is that too early for anyone?”

The group enthusiastically assured Mr. Wilkins that they would be up and ready in plenty of time.

“And how about our “turkey”? Is being processed starting about 7 am and snuffed at 8 convenient for you?”

Matt was once again impressed with the courtesy of the family, and assured Mr. Wilkins that this timing would be fine. While he hadn’t known the details, he had been fully aware that the invitation to the dinner was, in fact, an invitation to be killed, gutted, stuffed and cooked as the main entree for the meal. Letting the Wilkins family butcher and eat a handsome teen volunteer as their Thanksgiving feast (and again at Christmas) was a trivial way in which the town expressed its appreciation for the great patrons. Indeed, Matt recalled reading that in a prior year the mayor himself had donated his oldest son in appreciation for help the family had given the city after a hurricane caused major damage. The Wilkins had included the mayor’s entire family at the feast in response, and while he was very nervous at the start of the orgy when he was asked to masturbate with his family watching and Jim fucking his virgin ass, the son had eventually provided some great sex and had cooked up well. As usual, everyone had a wonderful time.

“That’s good,” Mr. Wilkins continued. “Now, one other thing. We have found it’s a lot more fun if we prolong the butchering of the boy we’re going to cook for our meal. It gets everyone in a good mood and the follow-on sex orgy while we can smell the meat cooking is intense. Is it OK if we use you that way? It involves trying to keep you alive as long as possible while we get you ready for the oven. For example, we will need to cut off your cock and balls to get into some of the cavities where the stuffing will go. We could of course behead you first — which is a quick way to go — and then do the prep for the stuffing once you’re dead, but it’s more entertaining for us if we start by cutting off your genitals — very slowly, cutting off the penis and each testicle separately — while we watch you suffer and listen to you scream. You’ll also probably be alive while we take out your intestines, and maybe even some of the internal organs. Guys don’t last the full hour of prep, but maybe you’ll be the first, and actually die by beheading. Either way, we do like to let the guy have one last orgasm, which is also fun to watch. If you’re OK with providing the entertainment, we’ll cut off your prick very carefully just as you start to shoot.”

Matt had no hesitation in agreeing to the torture/snuff session. In fact, it turned him on to think how much entertainment his final processing would provide for such a wonderful group of people. He wanted to represent the town well in expressing their gratitude, and what better way than to let them add the fun of a torture session to their festivities?

The last part of the ceremony was for guests to identify parts of Matt’s body that they’d like to have carved as their individual entree when it came time to serve the meat. Mr. Wilkins took notes as the guests prodded and poked Matt’s displayed flesh to determine what part they’d most enjoy. Several asked Matt’s suggestions and he was fully engaged in the conversations about which parts of him would taste best. The twins wanted matching cuts of meat, originally focusing on his pecks. But they were worried there wouldn’t be enough meat for them given how hungry they would be, and after talking with Matt they decided to enjoy his butt meat, one taking the right buttock and the other choosing the left. Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins then selected the pecks. Matt was especially pleased to learn that his genitals would be sown back on after the stuffing was inserted, and that Jim had been selected to include them as part of his meal.

“I doubt they taste very good, but it just seems like fun to eat another guy’s manhood, especially when you’ve enjoyed it sexually,” Jim explained. Matt offered the hope that Jim would enjoy the delicacy. Mr. Wilkins suggested perhaps Jim would want to consume the testicles raw, which he could do while Matt was still alive and able to watch. He said that in his experience young human testicles tasted better fresh and raw. Both Jim and Matt really liked that idea, so Mr. Wilkins made a note about a slight change in his usual procedures.

The guests soon turned back to drinking and fucking, and the evening went on well into the night and beyond — since they traded partners frequently even after supposedly heading to their nightly rest. Matt spent his final night in Jim’s room as promised, but they had lots of visitors. Jim joked that the main task for his dad the next day would be draining all the cum from Matt’s belly. They both found that pretty amusing, and the next day there was in fact a fair residue of the evening’s fun.

When everyone had gathered for breakfast, Mr. Wilkins placed Matt face up on a huge, man-shaped platter. The carving worked well, starting with Matt entertaining the group with a vigorous masturbation. As he shot his load, Mr. Wilkins reached to the base of his penis and slowly cut it off, lingering long enough for Matt’s sperm to spew all over his belly. Once the penis was removed, Mr. Wilkins spread the cum across the belly, pointing out that it helped flavor the skin nicely. Matt’s scrotum was removed next, exposing his testicles for their individual removal. Jim did the honors there, as agreed, and made sure Matt could watch as he carefully consumed each of Matt’s man-seeds. Matt could remain conscious for the event, grateful for the chance to see himself being used so appropriately. Jim, in turn, decided his dad was right and realized he had found a new delicacy to enjoy. Then the expert chef went through the process of removing Matt’s internal organs.

While Matt didn’t last all the way to the ceremonial beheading that climaxed the preparations, he lasted a long time and provided lots of enjoyment for the deserving family and their guests with his obvious suffering and constant screams of pain. Although it wasn’t Jim’s turn this year, the family agreed that he could do the actual beheading given their relationship, and he did an excellent job wielding the axe, getting a nice clean cut. There were the usual cheers as the head rolled off the platter, and several of the male guests took advantage of it by using the mouth for one last chance to fuck their guest — with Jim getting the final shot. Mr. Wilkins then added Matt’s head to the cabinet where he kept his annual souvenirs, noting that

Matt was clearly the most fun to use and prepare.

Best of all, Matt proved a delicious main course, providing fresh, willing meat to culminate a quant family tradition. There were hardly any leftovers, and it was one of their best Thanksgiving feasts.

I had a particularly satisfying orgasm recently while re-reading Den’s “Joe & Skyler Take a Captive” – imagining myself as the willing victim and also thinking about the comment Master Mac made to my “Bus Stop” story about a slave he owns. As I enjoyed the cum I’d spewed over my belly and chest, it occurred to me that his reference could be a potential story for this site. So, thanks Den and Master Mac. I hope you (and others) enjoy it.

Mac opened the door and greeted the large, muscular man on his doorstep. “Welcome. I’m Master Mac, and you must be Ashton. Do you go by Ash?”

“I go by Mr. Schmidt,” the man replied coldly, ignoring the offered handshake and brushing past Mac as he entered the room. “Do you have the money?”

“I do.” Mac ignored the rudeness and handed the visitor $2,000 in $100 bills. After some negotiation, it had been the agreed fee.

“Where’s the fag slave you want off’d?” Mac pointed at a young man standing naked in the living room. He was in his mid-twenties, fit, and quite good looking., his body nicely tanned and devoid of any body hair. The youth knew full well what was planned, but did not move or speak. His head was slightly bowed.

“This is Jimmy. If you’d like to sit down, we can finalize the details.” Schmidt grunted and proceeded to the only nice chair in the rather dingy living room. “Might as well get this over with. I don’t know what you’re master of, but this place sure is a dump.”

Mac again ignored the slight, and walked over to his guest carrying a bottle of whisky and two glasses. “I understand you like good Kentucky Whisky, and I inherited a 20-year-old bottle of Boundary Oak that I just opened for this occasion. Would you like to share some?

This presented a dilemma for Schmidt. He did indeed like high quality whisky, and he knew that this was probably the most expensive brand there was. Much as he was disgusted by the drab surroundings and unimpressed with his host, he did figure the whisky would be good, and he’d never had any of this brand. “OK, I’ll have some. Make it a double. Neat. And the price just went up – you don’t get any and I get to keep the bottle as part of my fee.”

Mac remained obliging, agreed to the new term, and put one of the glasses back on the shelf. He poured a generous double shot into the other one and handed it to his guest. Schmidt reached out and also took the bottle. It appeared to be the real thing, and that meant he had nearly doubled his fee. He knew an aged bottle of Boundary Oak would fetch at least a couple thousand dollars at auction. Maybe this job wouldn’t be a total loss after all.

“I covered a little of the situation in our email exchanges, but obviously didn’t lay out all of it. You see, when Jimmy was almost 18 he was caught shop-lifting and resisted arrest, punching a cop. The Judge decided to make an example of him, had him tried as an adult, and sentenced him to 7 years. It was a severe sentence, but the local police chief had been really pissed at Jimmy and he’s quite powerful in these parts. So Jimmy went to prison, where he was regularly and brutally raped by a bunch of the other prisoners and guards. Jimmy was a straight kid, so it not only fucked him up physically it really fucked him up sexually. What put him over the edge was one night when some of the more brutal inmates and guards joined forces to torture another young prisoner, not only beating him severely and gang-raping his ass but ultimately chocking him to death. Then they cut him into pieces and bar-be-cued the meat for their dinner. Jimmy was forced to watch all of this and suck off the perpetrators while they waited their turn to rape the victim. He’s never been able to get that scene out of his mind, especially the part when the kid finally died, shooting a large load of cum as he was simultaneously butt-fucked and strangled. As the dying cock shot out the load, the guard who had won the draw and was doing the fucking and killing cut into the kid’s genitals, pulling out the cock and a bunch of intestines. Two other guards ate the kid’s balls, since those are a delicacy, but Jimmy was forced to lick up the cum and eat the cock and the intestines attached to it. He was also gang-raped while they waited for the kid’s meat to cook. It was traumatic.

“I met Jimmy when I was serving some time in prison myself, and in due course I persuaded him to become my slave. I rent him out as a prostitute for a good fee, which supplements what I can make from this farm I inherited last year. You’re right – it’s not impressive, but it’s mine.

“I actually have grown very fond of Jimmy, and I used some of the extra money he earns as a whore to get Jimmy therapy. He’s no longer straight, and OK about being gay, and he accepts his proper role is as a slave. The therapy had the results I was after. But he still can’t get over the scenes in prison. He visualizes himself in the scene, and his therapist said he won’t ever be able to get over it, I’ve tortured him severely, but it’s not enough. Jimmy has accepted that too, so he is ready to encounter death., almost eager. He wants to do it by re-enacting that scene. Given my affection for Jimmy, I don’t want him to live his life constantly in emotional pain. So he and I agreed we’d have to act. That’s where you come in.”

Schmidt had been focusing on the whisky, and showed no reaction to the story. “That’s pretty pathetic. I really don’t give a fuck about your problems. And I hate fags. But I do kill people for a living, and I’m willing to kill Jimmy if I get paid to do it. By the way, the whisky isn’t all that great – you’re full of disappointments.

“But why don’t you kill him yourself if you “love” him so much? It’s easy. You’ve probably got an axe around here, and you could have him kneel over the tree stump I saw out front. If you whack him in the back of the neck he probably won’t even freak out much and you can get a nice, clean cut. It’s fun to watch the head tumble onto the ground and the body gush out a torrent of blood and such from the severed neck. Or if you want to watch him die a little more slowly, which I recommend for a worthless piece of shit like him, then just stab him in the heart. Here, you can even use my Bowie knife. Just aim a little to the left of his chest and you should enter the heart directly. He’ll be dead pretty quickly, but it’ll be more entertaining.” Schmidt was disgusted with Mc’s reluctance, and his tone showed it. He took out a large Bowie knife from a sheaf attached to his belt and placed it on the table with the sharp end pointing at Jimmy.

“I understand, and those are excellent suggestions. You’re clearly a professional. But Jimmy wants the scene in the prison, complete with torture, strangulation, and an orgasm timed to coincide with the point of death. I’m just not capable of killing someone I care about, especially that brutally. I really need for you to do it.”

“OK. If you’re a coward as well as a fag, I’ll take care of the job. You’re obviously no ”master.” But if I’m only getting two grand and some expensive booze that isn’t all that great, I get to do it the way I want. And that won’t be quick. It will be a lot worse than what happened to the kid in prison. That’s the only reason I’m willing to consider this at such a small fee. I normally get a whole lot more.” Schmidt had had several shots of the booze, even though he claimed not to like it, and it made him a bit talkative. Given his personality, that also meant he was into bragging about his exploits. “When I do a typical job, I get at least $10,000 and usually more. My clients are very wealthy and powerful people who need someone taken out quietly and permanently, with no risk of the event being blamed on them. So most of the time it’s poison that isn’t traceable, or “accidents” that I arrange. Every now and then it’s a vengeance killing, and those are more fun. I get to be personal with the victim, making sure he knows who ordered his death and making sure it’s very painful and slow. In those cases, I almost always include fucking the guy, which adds a lot of humiliation and some fun for me. I’m no fag, but I’ll fuck fags when it’s part of the process of snuffing them – like you all deserve.

Mac ignored the homophobia, which he was used to in his part of the world, but he was curious. “Don’t you worry that they’ll have you killed to keep you quiet? Aren’t they at risk of being blackmailed?”

Schmidt was in a mood to brag some more. ” I got that covered. First off, most of them are repeat customers, so they’ll need my services again. Havin someone killed is a great permanent solution to a problem. Second, I always create clear evidence of what I did, pointing to the person who hired me. But it also deliberately points to me as well. So it’s a mutual threat. If they have me killed, I’ve arranged for all that to be revealed. But if I blackmail them, I’d be exposed as well. So my clients and I can “trust” each other. It’s worked well, and I’ve never turned on anyone who hires me. After all, I’m a professional.”

Mac responded to the descriptions and the terms gratefully. “I fully understand, and you made that very clear in our exchanges. Besides, what Jimmy apparently needs is to replay the horrors of the scene he saw in prison. The kid who got snuffed had lots of bad things done to him before he died, like having bones broken and being subjected to electricity on his genitals. Whatever you decide will probably be an important part of the experience for him. But at the end, as he died, the kid shot a big load that the rapists responded to by cutting off his cock as it spewed its final orgasm, as I described. Jimmy wants that to be part of what he experiences, and I think it would be fun to watch, so that’s the only real constraint on the scene. I suspect you’d enjoy doing that. Otherwise there are no limits. I’ll butcher the dead body, and if you want to join me for dinner you’re welcome to do so.”

Schmidt considered what Mac had said, and now took a careful look at Jimmy. The kid was remarkably good looking. Schmidt never admitted, even to himself, that he was turned on by young males so long as he could dominate them, ideally killing them. Somehow that didn’t constitute being gay. Nor did the fact he enjoyed watching young guys cum, which usually generated an orgasm on his part as well. He especially liked it when they shot their final load while he choked them to death, his cock up their ass, so he could feel the wonderful pressure as the male’s death spasms caused the sphincter to tighten on his cock and sent him into wild sexual ecstasy. That’s obviously what happened in the prison scene. So, he figured this might be a fun afternoon after all.

“You’ve got a deal.” And with that Schmidt described in detail what he planned to do to Jimmy. To his surprise, as he did so Jimmy got an erection. He wasn’t stroking himself, still standing naked and mute with his hands at his sides. But his cock grew nicely as he listened to the horrible things Schmidt planned. And that, in turn, got Schmidt turned on, having never had a cooperative victim before. Mac could see Schmidt’s own erection, which was not concealed by the tight jeans the muscular killer wore, and could also see the tightening of his nipples under the T-shirt that was deliberately too small for his torso in order to show off his impressive physique.

“But one more condition. While I’m ripping your little boy-toy into pieces and fucking his ass, I don’t want you getting all sentimental, changing your mind, and interfering. So you can watch – it’s going to be quite a show – but only if you’re handcuffed in place. Understood?” And with that Schmidt pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and tossed them to Mac. He had no intention of letting Mac live after he killed Jimmy, and was already planning how to snuff him too. He was sure he could overpower Mac, but figured having victim #2 already handcuffed would make it easier. Schmidt planned ahead. But Mac did not object.

“Understood. I think we have everything worked out. Is this all OK with you, Jimmy?” Jimmy still didn’t speak, but nodded affirmatively. His rock-hard cock had already made his positon clear.

Mac had one final question. “I am glad we have a deal, and frankly getting the money was a challenge for us. But I’m curious why you’re willing to do it for so much less than you usually charge.”

By now Schmidt had had a fair amount of the whisky, and he was more than willing to brag further about his exploits. He told Mac that he had just completed a very lucrative job in the same county, so he was already in the area. It had been a long and complex kill, ordered by a right-wing minister who hated homosexuals. He had a campaign going to make homosexuality illegal again, as it should be, but also to require that gay males be publicly castrated. They would then lose their citizenship and work as slaves, required to stay naked so that citizens could see the results of their sin. Since the pastor viewed homosexuality as a choice, he reasoned that this would eliminate the evil form society.

The problem was that a nearby rabbi had been leading efforts in opposition, and needed to be neutralized. Schmidt had figured out a great way to do it, and the job was now complete. He had spent a year setting up evidence to frame the rabbi as a pederast. Schmidt identified young males in the area and sodomized them himself, after knocking them out, blindfolding them, stripping them, and taking them to a room he’d fixed up to look just like the rabbi’s bedroom. The youths had no idea who raped them, but Schmidt played a recording he’d doctored from some of the rabbi’s sermons, in which they heard the rabbi’s voice saying he was sorry. Then he threatened them if they told, which none did. Once he had raped a dozen or so victims during the past year, he went to the rabbi’s house. He forced the cleric to strip naked, and then castrated him. After that, Schmidt hacked into the personal diary the rabbi had kept online (which Schmidt had discovered earlier) and edited it to include vivid descriptions and photos of the rapes. He also added lots of self-loathing, telling how the rabbi couldn’t help himself because he was gay and decided the only solution was to castrate himself. Schmidt made it appear the rabbi died from a botched self-castration. Schmidt even showed Mac pictures of the rabbi lying naked on the floor of his living room, his hand holding a knife and his balls lying nearby in a pool of blood.

“But I wasn’t able to fuck the guy. If I did that, there would be semen inside him and that would put the positioning as a suicide at risk. I’m very careful about details – it’s essential in my profession. Sniffing this kid standing here, and fucking him as I do it, will make up for that, and the fact I’ll have to stop sodomizing those other kids so it confirms that it was the rabbi. It will be worth it if the preacher is successful in his crusade, which is now gaining lots of support after the news of the rabbi broke. And I got a HUGE fee from the preacher.”

Mac listened appreciatively, congratulating Schmidt on his professionalism. And, as Schmidt put down his drink, they proceeded to the task at hand.

. . . . .

Schmidt awakened the next morning. He didn’t recall falling asleep, and was even more surprised to realize he was now naked, lying on a hard cot in a prison cell. His cock was rigid with what he assumed was his morning pee-erection, although he didn’t feel a need to piss. He next realized that his body had been completely shaved from the neck down. His hands were cuffed behind him, and both Mac and Jimmy were looking down at him. He also realized he had a serious headache, a foul taste in his mouth, and pain in his right hand.

“Welcome back, Ass. You don’t mind if I call you Ass, do you? It can be short for Ashton, but it’s so much more appropriate for an asshole like you. And enough of that Schmidt stuff. Let’s go with something that’s also more appropriate. How about “Shit”? Mac smiled broadly, and so did Jimmy – his first expression since their guest had arrived. “Ass-shit seems like a perfect name. It’s now morning, by the way, and we want to thank you for an afternoon of fun and for inspiring some great fag sex last night between Jimmy and me. As you might be starting to figure out, I spiked the whisky, and you spent the afternoon extremely drunk. But you were drinking so much while you bragged about all your exploits I probably didn’t need to do that. I knew you were an asshole from what we’d researched, but didn’t realize you’re also an alcoholic. We let you entertain us during the afternoon and then let you sleep it off. We’re both still pretty horny, but we did have fun with you and we have waited a long time for this, so we figured we could wait another day. But it’s time for your morning piss.” With that, Mac unzipped his pants and pissed all over Ass. Jimmy did the same, but didn’t need to unzip since he was still naked. Ass swore and protested, calling them names and making all kinds of threats.

Jimmy, why don’t you lead our guest to the whipping station in our playroom while I explain things to him. I’m sure he’s curious.”

Jimmy unlocked the jail door and grabbed “Ass” by the shoulders to get him up off the cot. Their guest resisted and started swearing even louder at his hosts.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mac commented, as he touched an icon on his iPhone. Ass immediately felt a massive pain erupting inside his guts, and screamed in shock. He had never felt that level of pain, and it quickly spread throughout his body. “You see, Ass, I can send electricity into your body from my iPhone app, and I can adjust the amount from a light reminder to a level that would be fatal. You don’t have to worry about the latter, as we have other plans, but you seem to have felt the level I picked for this morning. It’s one of my favorite toys, and something I invented in my role as Master Mac. It’s all from a microchip I had you swallow, which is now embedded in your belly. It won’t move from there, but I’ll retrieve it later. I let Jimmy test it, so I know it works well. I make a nice return on my S&M inventions.” With that he touched a different picture, and Jimmy jerked with obvious pain, but did not scream. “Thank you Master,” he approximately responded when Master Mac ended the demonstration.

Ass stopped screaming and cursing, and cooperated while he sized up the situation. He still had no respect for the two smiling fags, believing they were amateurs who would make a mistake and whom he would overcome when they did. But he was now very worried and starting to develop a little actual fear. He’d never had that before. He was always the one in charge.

“You see, the story I told you is true, but you misunderstood one part of it. What Jimmy needs in order to have a great orgasm is indeed reenacting the prison scene. Seeing that kid tortured and snuffed, and eating his cock and innards, really did screw him up sexually and emotionally. And reliving that scene is the only true relief for him. But in his re-enactments he’s the one doing the killing, not the victim. I figured that out shortly after I met Jimmy. The part about me being in prison is also true, but it was for killing a guy in a bar fight. He’d pissed me off, and I beat the shit out of him. He turned out to have some weird condition, died, and then I got stuck with a manslaughter charge. The DA’s a friend of mine, so we agreed I’d just do 30 days since he completely understood that I had every right to beat up the dead guy. He even arranged for the warden to assign Jimmy as my cell-mate, so I’d have someone young and cute to fuck. The DA and I are part of a gay S&M club, where we have lots of fun torturing and fucking guys like Jimmy, and we take care of our fellow masters. The room we’re in is where we meet, and I think you’ll agree it’s very well equipped.

“Jimmy turned out to be a great fuck, and I listened to his story while I was pumping his ass. Part of the problem for him was that he had gotten totally turned on during the snuff party. He had no problem with the guards and other prisoners torturing and killing the punk kid, and his only objection to having to eat the kid’s intestines was that he would have preferred a bigger helping of boy-meat. He loved eating the cock and licking up the um from the dead body. He felt guilty about how he reacted, which fucked him up even more. Jimmy had gone from being a straight kid chasing pussy to a gay kid massively turned on by extreme gay S&M. He is now my slave, and I fuck him and torture him as I wish, but he seems to need periodic opportunities to be the ultimate top, and I’m very OK with that. It’ a lot of fun for both of us, as you’ll see – the three of us are going to spend some true quality time together. Jimmy gets amazing orgasms when he gets to viciously snuff some guy. And I do as well when I get to watch and then butt-fuck the nice warm corpse while Jimmy watches. We’ve hunted down and tortured to death all 10 of the guys who snuffed the kid, so we were wondering where to get more targets. Then we heard about you and figured we’d give it a try. We really don’t have all that much money, so getting the two grand in cash was a stretch. But we figured that had to be real to get your interest. And I did inherit the bottle of booze and the farm, although you don’t need to worry about having wasted the booze. I decanted the real stuff into another container, and I filled what you drank from with spiked cheap bourbon that I’d peed into. I also spiked it to make you get more drunk. For someone who claims to be such an expert, I was surprised you didn’t realize it was fake. But your arrogance and rapid consumption solved that problem.” Jimmy had now guided his target into the main room as Mac turned up the lights. Ass could now see that this was a very large room, and the cell was positioned in a corner of what was clearly a torture chamber. As Jimmy led him to a whipping station, Ass was distracted by another jolt of electricity that kept him from effectively resisting as Jimmy unlocked the handcuffs and fastened Ass’s wrists to shackles attached to the ceiling. At that point Ass could tell that his right index finger was missing, explaining the pain in his hand but confusing him even further.

“I see you noticed your missing finger. Let me explain while Jimmy starts the fun with a long and intense whipping session. The station is designed so he can get to both your back and your front, so it will also be comprehensive. Once you’ve been whipped long enough we figure you’re going to be a lot easier to deal with.

Jimmy, now smiling broadly and becoming talkative as he assumed his new role of a torturer, piled o: “I’m going to focus more on your back, and I’ll remove all the skin. That way, when we put you on your back on the torture table it will hurt a whole lot more. It’s sort of the reverse of you having skin in the game. But Master will have fun with your chest, belly, and genitals. He’s really expert at that. Trust me, I know.” Both Jimmy and Mac chuckled at Jimmy’s banter. Mac was delighted to see Jimmy so happy.

“So let me explain the missing finger. It’s simple. Both Jimmy and I are great internet researchers and software hackers. That’s how we found what you like to drink. And while you were out we wanted to use your cell phone to break into your Facebook page and to find the records on your various kills. We didn’t want you in the way, so we left you in the prison cell for a bit while we did our work. It was easier to use your index finger to allow us to unlock your phone and get past the security blocks you set up. We just cut it off and took it with us. We now know where all the evidence you created about your kills was located and have transferred it to our computers. You did a sloppy job protecting it and you’re lucky one of your past employers didn’t try to break the deal. The more I learn about you, the less impressed I am. I think you’re basically just a thug, not a professional at all. We also figured out how you tried to assure the evidence would be released if you were killed, and we’ve disabled all that. We’re in complete control of all of it.

“We have a great plan. First, we’ll release the evidence about you and the anti-gay preacher. That will get his vile campaign stopped, and put him in prison until he’s executed. Second, we’ll contact your prior employers and blackmail them. They won’t know who we are, but the evidence and all the publicity around you killing the rabbi will convince them we’re for real. And that we don’t care about exposing you as the actual killer. At that point we’re going to have no problems blackmailing all the others. So thanks to you, Jimmy and I are going to be very rich. Oh, and thanks for all the funds you had in your accounts. That’s the one thing I’ve learned about you that’s impressive, and it’s now it’s now converted to bitcoins I control. Totally untraceable. So I’m already rich, with all your money, and don’t have to wait for the blackmail money to start flowing in. You’ll be pleased to know I plan to use some of it to fix up the place so it’s not so dingy.” As Mac had continued talking, Jimmy had selected a bullwhip and started working on Ass’s back. The whipping was intense and Jimmy soon broke into a sweat form the efforts.

Ass could not help but listen to what Mac was saying. He was horrified, and now he was truly afraid. He was in intense pain as the whip lacerated his skin, and to the delight of both Jimmy and Mac he started screaming. It turned out Ass wasn’t nearly as tough as he’d appeared to be. The screams were mixed with curses and threats that further delighted his captors, and gave Mac an excuse to play with his electricity toy to punish the cursing. Ass was far exceeding the expectations they had when they decided to make him their next target.

“A couple more things while we get underway. I like sex to be not just naked, but REALLY naked – which is enhanced by removing all body hair. So I had Jimmy remove all yours, as he does with his own and mine, Clearly that also offends your macho nature, and there’s no body hair to cushion the blows. I think I’ve explained the physical stuff we did to you so far, with one exception. We like it when the victim’s cock is hard. I gave you a series of shots while you were out that will keep it hard until we cut it off. Maybe you’ll get that death orgasm we chatted about! You won’t feel it if we leave your cock attached that long, since it happens as you die, but it will entertain us, which is, after all, the whole point. We probably will not cut it off until after your final ejaculation, and that will be once you’re dead and I fuck your corpse. You see, if you know how to do it you can get a dead male to have an ejaculation, and I really enjoy doing that. Jimmy’s OK waiting until then to eat it.” Jimmy had paused to stroke Ass’s cock as Mac explained the drugs, and he did indeed have a solid erection despite the brutal whipping. He screamed that he was no fag, which got responses of a vicious cut with the bullwhip from Jimmy and an electric shock from Mac. They both laughed as Ass let out a particularly pitiful scream. Jimmy and Mac exchanged comments on how pretty Ass’s body was now that it was shaved and naked, complete with an erection that Mac could enjoy whipping. Mac was now planning on doing just that, and Jimmy laughingly reminded his Master not to get so carried away that the whip cut it off. Mac responded by sending an electric shock through Jimmy’s body, for which Jimmy once again expressed his appreciation. They had a wonderful relationship.

Mac put down the iPhone he was using to control his guest and his slave, and took the time to strip naked himself. It was time to move from timid and helpful host to sexual predator, and Mac’s cock was already hard and ready for action. His body was also hairless, and if Ass had been able to focus he would have had to admire how handsome Mac was, his muscles toned and strong. His looks and demeanor now fully justified his title of “master.” Both Jimmy and Mac were totally turned on sexually, even leaking a little pre-cum. There would be multiple orgasms during the sessions, but they were careful not to erupt too soon. They had special plans for their first loads of cum.

Mac joined in the whipping, and enjoyed focusing on Ass’s vulnerable cock. As predicted, it stayed hard despite the pain and adrenalin flowing through its owner. Mac explained further to Ass that the level of drugs he’d injected would be fatal in due course, but keeping the cock hard was important, and Ass would be dead before the impact of the drugs on the rest of his body took effect. That did not seem to reassure Ass, who continued his screams, curses, and threats.

Mac and Jimmy kept on with their morning aerobics. Ass was soon no longer screaming, but had started crying. That pleased his tormentors immensely. Even better, he actually started to beg.

Mac was now beyond delighted. “That’s very generous of you, Ass, but you don’t have anything to give us. We’ve taken it all. We’re going to take your life next, slowly and quite painfully. That will keep you quiet. Besides, even if we did let you go, at this point you don’t have a life to go back to. You see, while you were drunk we had a lot of fun. We stripped you naked, and as I mentioned Jimmy shaved you so you’d be more pretty and I made sure you’d have a hard cock while we played with you. To ruin your macho image, Jimmy put you in panties, a bra, and a dress, and then had you kneel in front of him and suck him off. He came in your mouth, and followed that with a load of piss. Then you did the same for me. To our surprise, you drank both and didn’t even gag. I’m betting your mouth taste pretty weird as a result. I do think you should come to terms with your own homosexuality, but there might not be much time for that now. After you swallowed all that cum and piss, Jimmy took off the dress and had you lie down on your back, pulling the panties down a bit so your cock stood out. Then he had you jerk off. You shot quite a load, which sprayed up onto the bra. So he had you take that off and suck the cum from the bra. Then you peed all over yourself – which was a nice surprise courtesy of the fact you were so drunk – and you licked that up too. That’s when you fell asleep for the night and we put you in the cell. Oh, by the way, thanks for the handcuffs. We used yours on you. I hope you didn’t think I was so stupid that I didn’t know you planned to kill me too? I think you’re the only one dumb enough to fall for something that obvious.

“Once we had you put way for the night, we went into your Facebook page and made an entry of “coming out at last” in which you say you wanted your friends to know that you were actually a gay transvestite. You had fallen in love with a young man who was now also your master, and you were going to live as a gay slave serving him, moving to the Caribbean. We figure that will explain why you will be disappearing, and it was a lot of fun to write. The video we posted of Jimmy’s fun with you turned out pretty nicely, if I do say so myself. It shows Jimmy’s cock in your mouth and the fact his buttocks are those of a young man. That supports the story without risking him being identified. Given all that, it’s best if we just keep killing you, which, by the way, we’re really enjoying. If you want an update, though, I did check your Facebook page little while ago. Pretty much all your “friends” have defriended you already. Some of them had very nasty things to say about you, and there was sure a lot of gay bashing. No one offered any support or sympathy. I also noticed that a lot of them have posted shirtless pictures of themselves on their own Facebook pages. Some of them are pretty good looking and fairly young. I’ve made a list of who they are and this will give us a promising selection of new victims. We think snuffing gay bashers who are sexually hot is a great service to society. Maybe you guys can have a reunion in hell.”

Ass said nothing. His world was destroyed, he was totally humiliated, and now he was going to die a painful death. His anger and hatred boiled over, but there was really nothing to say.

After about an hour of arousing exercise, Mac decided it was time for a break. He and Jimmy had worked hard, and were very sweaty. Ass’s back was now effectively skinned by the whipping, making it a great source for further torture. Mac wanted to shower up so they’d be fresh for the next session, and then take a short nap holding each other. He also figured Ass was at risk of premature damage. They sprayed alcohol on Ass’s lacerations, generating some satisfying screams, and walked over to a shower area in the dungeon. Jimmy washed Mac, as was appropriate, and then washed himself. They two embraced and kissed, pleased with their efforts and eager for more. They then went over to Ass and hosed him off, admiring how their handiwork had left the once-pristine flesh terribly scarred or completely gone. It was just a start, but it was a good start. They left Ass hanging at the whipping post and lay down in a bed that gave them a great view of their suffering victim. The two lovers, master and slave, then dozed peacefully and briefly after they enjoyed admiring their handiwork. For Ass’s benefit, they played the video of the prior afternoon’s fun on a large screen he could view. They fell asleep fulfilled by the sound of his sobbing.

Mac woke refreshed about an hour later, and awakened Jimmy with an electric shock. He and Jimmy walked over and released Ass from the whipping station. He had passed out, and they carried him over to a torture table, where they fastened his wrists and ankles so that he was spread-eagled on his back. The surface under Ass’s back was sandpaper, designed to keep him in constant, ongoing pain especially when his body moved. The table had gutters along the sides for draining blood and other body fluids, and was on an incline so that the upper body was somewhat higher than the legs. That way blood would flow downhill after the heart stopped, which would keep the cock hard even then and help generate the desired orgasm. There was also a split designed so that the torturer could stand between the legs of the victim, making it easier to attack the genitals and fuck the ass. Mac had designed and built. It himself, using Jimmy to test his ideas. He was rightfully proud of how well it had turned out, and the others he built were a big hit within his “Master Mac” line of S&M products.

They woke Ass up and Mac explained a little of what was coming next. “You had some very creative ideas yesterday when you described how you planned to torture Jimmy. It was the thought of doing those things to you that got him hard. Thanks for those, and we’ll do our best to follow your script. But we think they weren’t painful or humiliating enough and have added other ideas like whipping to the list. You also assumed a willing victim, which is an assumption we can’t make. We’ve planned for that too.

“One added area of fun is that we are going to cut off some of your meat before you die. That way we can make you watch parts of yourself being eaten. You’ll be dead by the time we fully butcher you for dinner tonight. Our new hobby has made us realize how tasty male meat is, and we greatly enjoy our cannibal treats. If there’s a part of your body you especially recommend and would like to watch us eat, please feel free to let me know. Also, we do hope you continue to scream a lot. We’re in the middle of nowhere so no one will hear. We’ve found we especially enjoy listening as the screams become more those of an animal instead of a human. It helps us realize that’s exactly what you are – meat ready to be killed and eaten. It’s quite an added turn-on. Jimmy will take over now.”

And Jimmy did indeed take control, speaking to Ass as the one in charge for the first time. This was his fantasy now, and he was fully into it and, with his Master’s blessing, in control. The first thing he did was hold a pair of pliers in front of Ass. “Now that you’re an official fag, you need to learn to suck cock. You didn’t do that great a job yesterday, although I think you have potential. I’ll teach you, and you can suck mine. But I don’t trust you not to bite me now that you’re no longer drunk. So, just to make sure, I’m going to use these pliers to remove your teeth. Slowly, one by one. It is amazingly painful, apparently.“ With that statement he inserted a device to hold Ass-Shit’s mouth wide open, and started to approach his target. He paused briefly, however. “Do you have a preference if you lose your uppers or lowers first? I do want to be accommodating.” Both Jimmy and Mac laughed, but Jimmy didn’t wait for an answer before using the pliers to slowly remove Ass’s teeth, enjoying the gurgled scrams and curses. Better yet, there was no way Ass could lie still, so the sandpaper added another source of pain to his skinless back. Jimmy had also inserted dentist-style suction tube so that the bleeding would not choke his victim. “We don’t’ want you to die too soon, do we? Actually, the whole process of snuffing you will take hours, so be patient. You’ll be dead before we have you for dinner, but you ought to know we like to eat late. It’s all just part of the process, and the fun. By the way, that invitation from Master Mac yesterday to join us for dinner is still open, and we’ve accepted on your behalf. But you probably didn’t realize you would be the main course.”

Jimmy kept talking as he worked. Once in charge, with the prospect of being able to relieve his sexual tension by snuffing another male, he had a very outgoing personality. “You might notice the cameras that are all around the room. We’re filming this, like we did the fun I had with you yesterday during your coming out party, and we’ll send an edited version of the film – one that doesn’t show us – to your former employers. It will feature you sucking cock and getting butt-fucked, among other things. We want them to conclude that you were a fag all along, which I think you actually are. Having a seriously erect cock while you suck another guy’s dick is pretty strong evidence. We don’t just want to torture and kill you. We want to humiliate you as well. And, of course, we want your employers to know you’re dead so they understand the reality of being blackmailed. Once I’ve strangled you and Master Mac has enjoyed fucking your corpse and making you cum, I’ll cut off your head to make it clear. Then we’ll finish butchering you and toss whatever’s left into the chipper Master Mac has out back. We love the movie Fargo and will probably watch that tonight.”

Once Jimmy was done with his first task, he climbed on top of Ass and inserted his cock into the bleeding mouth. Ass tried to resist, but couldn’t. Jimmy began thrusting his cock in and out of the new fag he was creating. There was also an elaborate system of mirrors, so both Jimmy and Ass could see that Ass’s cock was dripping pre-cum, an observation Mac was delighted to point out as he watched.

But Jimmy did not let Ass bring him to orgasm. He had other plans first, so he ending the sucking and just loosed a load of piss down Ass’s unwilling throat. “It’s time for some breakage, so we can release you form the restraints. We’re going to fuck your ass next and it’s easier if we can lift you a little.” Jimmy climbed off Ass and signaled to Mac, who approached the strapped victim from the side opposite to Jimmy. “We think you’d try to attach us, and that would interrupt our fun. So we’ve decided to prevent that. You’d mentioned parts of me that you wanted to break, and we’re going to follow your advice.”

At Jimmy’s signal, Mac grabbed Ass’s left elbow with one hand and administered a professional karate chop to it with the other. Jimmy did the same with the other elbow, and both blows were successful. Ass now had two broken arms, and he would not be able to use them to try to attack his torturers or defend himself. Mac and Jimmy now released his wrists from the restraints, and, just to be safe, administered similar blows that broke each wrist. Ass passed out, but was quickly revived.

“We’re going to cut off your hands now,” Jimmy announced with glee. After we dispose of you, I’m going to drive your rental car down to Florida and abandon it. I’ll wear gloves so I don’t leave any fingerprints, then I’ll use your hands to make sure yours are all over the place. Then I’ll dispose of them by burning them up in order not to leave a trace. Pretty clever, huh?”

Mac couldn’t help piling on. “Jimmy dreamed that idea up himself, and I approved so long as he stays naked. That’s a condition of his status as my slave. But it will work out OK since I’m going to fly down and meet him. I’ll get a rental car and we’ll go to a S&M bar I particularly like. Slaves are always naked there. The coolest part is that one of your former Facebook “friends” is actually gay and hangs out there too. I recognized him from when I was there before. I’ll arrange to meet him, and offer him Jimmy to whip and fuck. When we go back to his place to do that, Jimmy and I will knock him out and fake his decision to move away or something like that. We’ll drive him back here and he’ll be our next victim. The first thing he’ll see will be the full film of your adventures, so it will be fun to share that with him before he starts his own.”

Jimmy took a slightly different approach in terms of destroying Ass’s knees. He and Mac first took sledge hammers and pulverized Ass’s ankles. They released the restraints, and next bent each leg forward until it broke at the knee. This required once again reviving their target, who was now completely incapable of any action they would consider threatening. And they could maneuver him on the table to suit their fatal plans for the body.

“I do admire your physical shape, especially your great chest and pecs. So let’s take care of them next.” Jimmy once again picked up the pliers, washing off the blood in a nearby sink. “We want to keep things clean.” He placed the pliers over each tit, and squeezed them tightly. Then he twisted them, causing the tits to be crushed and twisted off the handsome chest. There was a little breast-meat that came with each one, and after he was done he offered one to Mac and took one himself. They made sure Ass was watching and ate them raw. It wasn’t very good meat, but it did make sure Ass knew they were serious about what was ultimately going to happen to his body. That body was now a ruined mass of pain.

“Time for a good fuck and our first orgasm of the session,” announced Jimmy. He explained to Ass that they had not butt-fucked him the day before because they wanted him to feel that sensation and humiliation while he was sober. He also explained that they resolved the issue of who got to do the first fuck by agreeing to do a double-fuck. With both their dicks up Ass’s ass, his pain would be a lot greater, as would their pleasure. They loved the feel of the asshole being torn, and of each other’s dicks erupting together. They had gotten quite good at their timing, he assured Ass. And once he was double-fucked by two guys, Ass would officially be initiated as a total fag.

Mac positioned himself underneath Ass, and Jimmy lifted the broken legs (delighted at the obvious pain that caused Ass). They both inserted their cocks at the same time, not bothering with any lube that might have reduced Ass’s pain. This was when the screams took on the despairing tone of an animal that they so much enjoyed hearing. Ass had lost all hope, all his fight, and was simply wallowing in the incredible agony being inflicted on him. Being double-fucked by two fags was the worst thing he could imagine.

But Ass had another problem. As painful as the fucking was, it also gave him considerable sexual pleasure. The pressure on his prostate enhanced his erection even more, and he was aghast to realize he was getting major sexual pleasure from being raped by guys. Both Jimmy and Mac recognized his reaction, and made sure to point out that he was in fact just a fag who, under his own standards, deserved to die a terrible death. This was what Ass himself believed he deserved. His humiliation was total.

Mac and Jimmy took their time fucking, wanting it to last as long as possible. They were turned on by feeling the tear in the asshole itself, and they were beyond turned on by the feel of each other’s hard cocks in the tight hole. They guessed (correctly) that the hole was in fact a virgin as Ass had claimed, and took satisfaction being the first (and last) to rape it. They managed to stretch out the rhythmic thrusts for nearly an hour, but their sexual excitement had to be dealt with. They kissed each other and picked up the pace, moving toward orgasm. As they did so, Jimmy started stroking Ass’s cock, which was also clearly aroused even beyond the drugs that kept it hard no matter what. It all worked perfectly, and all three males shot loads at the same time. Jimmy’s however, was more like an explosion, as he got not just the physical release of a great fuck but the psychological release of knowing the guy he just fucked would soon be dead, and that Jimmy was the one killing him. It was a phenomenal release, second only to the anticipated death itself. Mac’s orgasm was also intense, in his case amplified by knowing his beloved slave was on his way to sexual and psychological fulfillment. For Ass there was no joy, although he did feel the physical pleasure of shooting a load. That pleasure was overwhelmed by the immense pain he was in, and by his humiliation. But his lack of appreciation was made up for by how much Mac and Jimmy enjoyed watching him shoot and laughing at his agony.

It was now early afternoon and Jimmy declared it was time for lunch and another nap. He was worried that Ass was fading faster than he wanted, and he was hungry. They left Ass on the table and washed up, cleaning off what was a considerable amount of Ass’s sweat, blood, and gore as well as their own sweat. Once they were freshened, Jimmy approached Ass and announced that he had decided what to have for lunch. “I don’t want to risk you dying too soon, so I am not going to cut into your core. But there’s enough meat for lunch on your lower legs, and they’re already pretty much destroyed.” With that Jimmy picked up two hand saws, giving one to Master Mac. They were deliberately slow as they first sawed off Ass’s feet, then used a butcher knife to cut off the meat on the lower legs, and finally sawed off his lower legs at the knees. Doing it in that order had the advantage of assuring Ass felt all possible pain in the process. Jimmy expertly cauterized the wounds so that Ass wouldn’t bleed to death. And he revived him so that he could watch them eat his flesh.

Lunch was delicious. They made it sort of a picnic, with grits and baked beans, eating Ass’s meat raw. “Ass tar-tar is sure delicious,” Mac declared. “And it will in due course turn into shit as we digest it. You are aptly named, Ass-Shit.” Both Jimmy and Mac laughed, but Ass was not amused.

“We’re going to take a break and relax, so you don’t react too strongly to what we’ve done so far. After all, the next round will be a lot more intense. We don’t want you to get bored, however, so we’re going to turn on a vibrator in the table that will cause your body to shake and make sure the sandpaper does its job of assuring your back is in constant agony. Master Mac will also turn on a low level of electricity to assure the rest of you is also in pain. That way we can rest without shirking our duty of torturing you completely. But I promised to teach you how to suck cock, so first I’ll let you suck me off.” After Jimmy shot his load down Ass’s throat, the two lovers again embraced and kissed, and lay down for a well-deserved nap, which began with Jimmy sucking off Master Mac.

It was late afternoon when Jimmy awakened. He awakened his Master by lovingly sucking on Mac’s erect cock cone again, and after a little 69 action they returned to their task of the day.

Ass had passed out from the pain, but was quickly revived. Jimmy turned off the vibration feature and Mac turned off the electric shocks. They had more intense and more painful ideas in mind for this session.

“We especially want to thank you for the Bowie knife,” Mac commented. “I’ve never owned one quite this nice. I think it will make Jimmy’s next actions much more satisfying for him., and you’ll have the honor of having been helpful. You see, this is where he really takes over. This is when you get ripped apart and die.” Mac handed the knife to Jimmy and moved away from the table so Jimmy had free range to satisfy his needs. Ass could only hope it would be quick, but knew it would not. He had laid out too much of the scenario he now anticipated would happen to him, not to Jimmy. And he was right.

Jimmy stood in the space between what was left of Ass’s legs, and positioned the knife so Ass would involuntarily focus on it. “I’ve never gutted another guy before, but your description makes it irresistible. Thanks for the great idea.”

Jimmy now positioned the knife just above Ass’s still-rigid cock, and inserted it into the vulnerable flesh. He went deep, and he went slow. At the same time, he inserted his own rock-hard cock into Ass-Shit’s asshole, which was still bleeding from the double-fuck Jimmy and Mac had enjoyed inflicting. The fuck-hole was nicely lubricated with Ass’s blood and the torturers’ cum, and Jimmy began a slow fuck – in and out, in and out – thrusting deeper with each motion.

The knife kept pace, staying deep in Ass’s guts and very slowly moving up his torso. But Jimmy paused once the knife reached the belly button, leaving it in place, continuing his thrusts with his cock, but picking up another knife that Mac had paced on the table. “You won’t be needing these, even for your last orgasms, and they look tasty.” With the handle of the Bowies knife sticking up from the middle of Ass’s belly, and with Jimmy’s cock going in and out of his asshole, Ass saw in the mirror, and felt, as Jimmy carefully cut off the skin around his scrotum and then individually removed each testicle. Ass was officially no longer a male, and in his pain and humiliation he could not help but continue to watch as Jimmy handed the two prize man-seeds to Mac, who quickly cleaned them off and handed one back to Jimmy. They put them in their mouths and kissed each other as they chewed and swallowed the sources of Ass’s manhood. They were delicious and remarkably satisfying.

Jimmy returned to the knife and continued its journey up to the base of Ass’s rib cage. He then took it out and used it to cut into the skin a bit more so he could easily reach into Ass’s innards. He first reached in and pulled out Ass’s liver, which he handed to Mac. “We’re very fond of liver and onions, and we hope your alcoholism hasn’t ruined yours. That would be a shame.” Jimmy next pulled out stings of intestines, cutting off a piece for himself as a token of the experience that had so inspired him. It tasted terrible, but he swallowed it as his cock got even harder. He would need to cum soon, but that was OK. He didn’t have a whole lot left to do. Ass was near death, and Jimmy wanted to control how that happened.

Jimmy next reached into the body cavity and pushed his hand up into the chest area, reaching Ass’s heart. It was still functioning, but not by much. Jimmy squeezed it until it stopped, causing Ass to gasp in agony. Jimmy quickly withdrew his hand and grabbed Ass’s neck, which he now squeezed until no oxygen could pass through it. He achieved his goal, feeling Ass die from both a crushed heart and a crushed windpipe. As Jimmy saw the death-throws starting, he could also feel the pressure on his cock as the sphincter failed and the pressure increased. Jimmy shot a massive load that was even more intense than the one he’d pumped into Ass’s body earlier that day. It was beyond explosive, and made even more satisfying as he watched Ass’s own cock erupt, driven in part by gravity generated on the cock from the slight elevation that put the heart at an angle. The blood had to go somewhere, the heart was no longer pumping, and the cock was the lowest point. Jimmy admired just how creative his master was as he enjoyed watching Ass’s cum stream out onto his open guts while feeling his own cum fill them from within. It was spectacular. This was the greatest orgasm and the greatest psychological release he’d ever had.

The balance of the evening was highly enjoyable for both Mac and Jimmy. Mac enjoyed fucking Ass’s dead body right after Jimmy was done, and he succeeded in getting Ass to shoot one last load courtesy of how he had positioned the body on the table. It intensified Mac’s own orgasm, and Mac had the pleasure of cutting off the dead man’s cock as it erupted, handing it and some attached innards to Jimmy to enjoy eating. Ass was now totally emasculated and gutted, and Jimmy finished the scenario by decapitating him. The cameras aught all the action, and they knew they’d have wonderful memories as they watched the film time after time. Jimmy was content to return to his role as a slave, grateful to his master for the release. Master Mac made it a point to use Jimmy even more brutally that evening to drive home the point – and Mac’s own need to dominate and torture. All in all, it was a wonderful day, capped off by a great meal featuring Ass’s lean chest meat. With their newfound wealth and all the info on Ass’s handsome young fag-hating friends, they knew there would be many others to enjoy.

Bill’s lust was mostly for smooth “muscle boys” who were young, trim, sexually eager, and very well built. He liked the “twink” variety best, if they had worked out to perfect their amazing smooth young bodies. Using his ample cock to fuck their tight bubble-butt assholes was his favourite hobby – and he did it often. Money was not an issue for Bill, being extremely successful in his business, so he could well afford to rent the kind of male meat he liked. He just expected the meat to obey his every whim and please him however, wherever, and whenever he felt like being serviced.

In terms of Bill’s “rentals” there was no question Paul was his best find ever. The young stud had recently moved from Dallas to Tampa, and adopted “Paul Paulson” as a stage name for his career as a male prostitute. That’s how Bill had found him, through a web service that included pictures and reviews. They were all positive – every guy who reviewed Paul commented on how well he sucked cock, how friendly he was, and what a truly great body he possessed. Paul was about medium height, just right for good 69 sessions, and his body was in absolutely perfect shape, reflecting the hours of workouts he put in every day. His skin was smooth and mostly hairless, except for a little clump around his very appealing crotch, which included a larger than usual scrotum that caused his balls to hang a little lower than the usual male equipment, so they were easy for Bill to massage with his mouth. Paul didn’t have a massive cock, but it was decently sized, uncut, and very functional. Paul had no problem getting and maintaining his erections, which reflected a combination of his youth (he was 20) and his great physical shape. All of this really turned Bill on, and his orgasms were pretty explosive when he rented Paul for an evening’s fun.

Bill particularly remembered one evening, when they had ventured out of Paul’s condo and enjoyed themselves at a local gay strip club. They rated the dancers in a joking way over a beer or two, and they agreed that one guy in particular had an especially sexy body. The dancer was named Matt, and he didn’t waste any time stripping for Paul and Dave. He started out completely naked – unlike the other guys, he even was barefoot. The only things he had on were a tight, yellow collar that highlighted his tanned skin and had a ring to which a leash could be attached, and a set of metal rings around his scrotum and his cock that held them tight and rigid and were in turn secured in place with a small padlock. His cock was erect and bounced in front of him as he danced, the cock restraints helping to keep it that way.

“There’s no place to put a tip,” Bill hollered over the loud music. Bill was always more than willing to pay for his sexual entertainment.

”I am a sex slave, sir, merely live male meat provided by the bar owner for your amusement. Slaves don’t deserve tips, sir. We simply exist to serve our owners. My master told me to dance for the two of you, and to let you use my body however you would like.”

“Who owns you,” Paul inquired, curious and also very aroused by the image of the beautiful young boy dancing in front of him for his amusement while adorned with appropriate slave insignias. While Paul worked as a prostitute, he never made himself that available, and limited what his customers could do with him.

“Mr. Jameson, the owner, purchased me at an auction last week along with some other furniture for the bar, sir, but I believe he intends to sell me. Of course, that’s none of my business and I obviously have no say in the matter.” The boy had been stroking his dick, and now had an even harder erection that was pointing nearly straight up in front of him, but still bouncing as he moved. That turned on Bill and Paul even more.

Bill recognized the name and asked the waiter to see if Mr. Jameson would like to chat with him, and the bar owner wandered over to their table shortly afterwards. By then Matt was on all fours in front of the two interested patrons, letting them examine his tight young ass and stroke his cock. Paul was taking full advantage of the opportunity.

“So, Bill, do you like my new purchase?” asked Mr. Jameson. “As you can tell, it’s really well trained and I figured it could be a feature at our meeting next weekend.”

“Stan!” came Bill’s startled reply. “I recognized your name when the slave told us who owned it, but I had no idea you owned this place. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just bought it at an auction last week. The prior owner went bust. It turned out the meat you and your buddy are enjoying was his too, so I added a couple of bucks and bought myself a little boy-flesh. Feel free to do whatever you like to him, by the way, and now that I own the place it’s OK for customers to get naked and fuck in the bar itself. I figure that will help business, and it just costs a little extra with the local cops. Mostly I just let them in for free fucks.”

Bill and Paul were already shirtless, since Bill liked to look at Paul’s amazing body and have Paul stroke his own very attractive skin, but at Bill’s signal they now both stripped completely. Both had gotten hard watching Matt and the other dancers, so they were ready for action.

“Looks like you guys are ready for some fucking. Trust me; this shithead is a great piece of meat to fuck. Do you want it on its belly or on its back?” Stan inquired. “My suggestion is to have it lay across the table on its belly so one of you can fuck its butt while it sucks off the other guy. It might as well get used to being spit-roasted.” Matt picked up on the instructions and quickly positioned himself as suggested for maximum use by the two favoured patrons. Stan reached into his pocket and pulled out several short pieces of rope, which he quickly used to tie each of his slave’s hands and feet to one of the legs of the table, making the boy completely vulnerable and unable to resist. Given Matt’s training and attitude that was hardly necessary, but it clearly added to the ambiance.

“Once you two are done using it, I figure the rest of the bar might as well have a turn. I don’t plan to keep the slave long, so I am not too worried if it gets a little used up.”

“Well, don’t let it get too damaged,” Bill urged. “We do want to have a good meeting.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure it’s still useful,” Stan assured. “But what about your buddy here? I am guessing he’s a whore and I’d sure like to have him join us. He’s a lot better looking than my little boy toy. He’d be a huge hit if you brought him.”

“Well, he is a prostitute,” Bill intoned, “but he’s not into being a slave, and he generally does not let other guys fuck him. But, frankly, he’s so good looking and such a great cocksucker and kisser that I’m OK with that.”

Paul wasn’t very pleased with the conversation. He was very proud, and although he knew that he had to provide service in his role as a prostitute, he viewed it as a profession, worthy of respect from his customers. He did not like being referred to like a commodity. However, Bill paid extremely well, so he let it pass for now.

“Well, it’s obviously up to you,” Stan continued, openly admiring Paul’s now fully exposed body and taking the liberty of caressing his smooth, beautiful skin. “But as club president this year, Ill waive your whole year’s membership fee if you bring him. I think we can recruit more of the right kind of members if we improve the quality of our guests.”

As Stan wandered off to tend to other customers and invite them to join in the fucking, Paul inquired what Stan was referring to. Despite being a little offended, he was also certainly curious.

“It’s a gay sex club I belong to that’s very exclusive. Each member brings a young guy to join in the weekly orgy, and we vote on which guest is the best looking, best fuck, and has the best attitude. The guys get rewards accordingly. It’s a whole lot of fun, and if you’d be interested I am pretty sure you’d at least win best looking. That’s a $5,000 prize, and obviously it would be in addition to your usual fee and tip. The only hitch is that you do have to wear slave gear and agree to be butt-fucked.” Bill had seen the spark of interest, and really wanted to get Paul to attend. He especially wanted to fuck Paul’s young bubble-butt, which Paul had not yet permitted. Paul was such an amazing stud that it would not only be a lot of fun but it would also impress the other members. Bill had joined only recently and was still trying to assure a good impression. All the members were extremely wealthy, so they brought really good looking studs and set the prize money very high.

“Well, maybe so – that’s a lot of money, after all. But you’d have to assure me they would follow my limits. I don’t mind a little S&M, but I am a top, not a bottom.”

“That’s not the usual approach, but I think it wouldn’t be a problem,” assured Bill, still hoping to get his cock into Paul’s backside. “The rules are very clear on all that sort of thing. We want everyone to have a great time and we especially value our guests.”

“OK, I’m game.” Bill was so thrilled at the prospect that he grabbed Paul by the back of the neck and pulled him close so he could provide a very enthusiastic kiss. They then took turns using the young slave tied to the table, with Bill so excited that he even let Paul have the first turn fucking the boy’s asshole while Bill inserted his own cock into the eager young mouth. As they fucked, they leaned over and continued their kissing session, eventually bringing each other to a fabulous mutual orgasm that drew applause from the other customers who had crowded around to enjoy the show. They were so into each other that they hadn’t noticed the crowd forming, but that too turned them on. So they traded places, and the slave cleaned Paul’s cock with his mouth as Paul regained an erection and then enjoyed a great blow job while Bill also restored his vigour and enjoyed fucking the recently used asshole. This time they were very aware of the crowd, and enjoyed being cheered on as they used the submissive young male flesh for their second round of orgasms. Not being greedy, they ordered drinks for the house while they watched the rest of the customers fuck the house slave and each other. It wasn’t long before someone produced a whip, and Mat’s back and butt were terrific targets, as were his belly, cock and balls when they turned him over to get a little variety into the torture. Matt thanked each of the customers for taking the trouble to use him for their pleasure, which was quite well received. So was the implication of Matt’s yellow slave collar, which signalled that there was no need to go the bathroom to piss – everyone’s urine just went down Matt’s throat. It was a great evening, and when the bar finally closed Matt was left tied to the table with the whip resting on his belly. “Might as well let the clean-up crew have some fun, too,” Stan said thoughtfully. “But I am aware they’ll just make the slave do all the work cleaning up, which is OK by me. He’s a good worker, and fun to watch as he walks around naked doing the chores. I insist that the rest of the clean-up crew is also naked, so it is a good show of whipping, fucking, and cleaning. I think I’ll stay to watch. I might as well get as much use as possible out of my new slave while I can.” Bill and Paul then returned to Paul’s condo for yet another sex session, joined by two of Paul’s roommates who also worked as prostitutes. It was an expensive evening for Bill, which didn’t matter at all since it was one he would always remember.

The following Saturday could hardly come soon enough for Bill, who was still quite excited at the prospect of having Paul join him at his club. They met at Bill’s house, and started the evening with a casual drink and a very relaxing 69 that got their sexual juices nicely aroused. Bill didn’t have them actually achieve orgasms; he wanted to be sure they had lots of sperm ready to go for the evening’s fun.

“This is a very unique club,” Bill explained. “All the members are extremely wealthy and extremely fit. We don’t let anyone in who doesn’t measure up both financially and physically, so there really aren’t any limits to the entertainment we can afford and everyone there is a turn-on. I don’t think there’s any other club quite like it.

“There is only one rule that will affect you. It is required that guests arrive naked and wear a slave collar. That way we can start the evaluations for the prizes right away. So you’ll need to strip once we get there, and I figure we can leave your stuff in my car. I brought a couple of collars you can choose from. Is that OK?”

Paul was a little taken aback, but had to admit to himself that he liked being naked and showing off his body to other guys, and he really liked orgies. The slave collar also, to his surprise, had the effect of turning him on. So, almost to his own surprise, he agreed. In fact, starting to get into the spirit of the evening, he suggested he just strip and leave his stuff in Bill’s house, knowing it would please Bill to be able to look at his naked flesh on the ride over and play with Paul’s cock while Bill drove. Paul would also make sure to get an erection, so he would arrive looking impressive. Bill showed Paul the selection of collars, and Paul picked out one that was simple leather and somewhat wide, with a hook to which a leash could be attached. Paul laughingly told Bill he might as well go for the full effect, but secretly he hoped Bill would indeed find a leash. With that, Paul stripped, they finished their drinks, and Bill drove them to the site of the club.

To Paul’s surprise, the club was located in the warehouse district, and it appeared to be just another warehouse from the outside. Bill explained that this made it convenient to get to, being close to town, and it helped assure no one bothered them or became aware of the club. “We value our privacy,” he explained. “And don’t let the outside fool you û inside its pretty awesome.”

When they got out of the car, Bill opened the trunk and surprised Paul with an added option–a leash. “It’s clearly your choice, Paul, but if you really want to go for the full effect, this should do it.” To Bill’s surprise and delight, Paul quickly agreed. So Bill approached the door to the warehouse holding Paul’s leash, with his beautiful rented slave walking dutifully behind him, naked, obedient, collared, leashed, and aroused.

Bill had not misrepresented how nice the interior of the club was. As soon as they entered, a very handsome young male respectfully greeted Bill and welcomed him. Bill stood still while the young man undressed him, carefully storing Bill’s clothes in a locker. He attached the end of the leash to a nearby post, as one would do with an owner’s horse in the Old West before the owner entered a saloon. Paul was impressed with the obvious symbolism, but not put off. He was really starting to get into the scene and wondered what would happen next.

Once Bill was naked, the doorman knelt in front of him and proceeded to suck on Bill’s cock until it was nice and hard. The combination of the doorman’s own nakedness and great body with the reality of having Paul so obviously willing to play meant that this process took no time at all. But Bill let the doorman take his time, enjoying the expert attention to his favorite muscle.

Once they passed through the next door, Paul was overwhelmed. The place was huge, and it was fantastic. There were bars in various strategic locations that featured whatever the members wanted to drink, and cushioned lounges everywhere for the comfort of the members while they played with each other and their guests. Best of all, there was a very large and comfortable looking mat in the middle of the room, which was obviously for the upcoming orgy.

Paul was also amazed by the quality of the male flesh that filled the room. While some of the guys were a bit older (obviously members), as Bill had promised every one of them was in great physical shape and very appealing sexually. The ‘guests’ were even better–Paul even felt there might be some competition on who was the best fuck, and determined to be sure he won the prize nonetheless. It wasn’t just the money (although that helped), it was now a matter of pride. Paul let Bill know that he would, after all, be willing to be butt-fucked and planned to win all three of the prizes. Bill, of course, was thrilled. Paul had never allowed Bill inside his ass before, and had claimed it was still virgin.

Bill quickly spotted his friend Stan and led Paul over to show off his prize. Stan was talking to another member, who was also showing off his guest. But Stan’s attention quickly turned to Paul when Bill led him over, and Stan’s interest was clear. While the other stud had gotten some arousal from Stan, the sight of Paul naked and erect with a collar and a leash obviously turned him on, and Stan made no effort to hide the effect. After all, displaying hard cocks was one goal of the evening.

“Well, this is a very pleasant surprise,” Stan said by way of greeting. “I guess I’ll have to waive your dues after all. But I sure don’t mind doing so.”

It was then that Paul had an inspired idea. He bowed to Bill, and knelt down in front of Stan, offering his mouth to service Stan’s cock. Like a good slave, he didn’t presume to touch it, but the offer was clear and respectful, waiting for permission and instructions.

“Wow. Did you even train him? This is quite impressive given what you told me the other night.” With that, Stan signaled his assent to Paul, who proceeded to take Stan’s manhood into his mouth and start massaging it. As Bill knew, Paul was probably the world’s greatest cocksucker, and Stan was so turned on that he actually began to moan in pleasure.

“This guy is awesome!” Stan exclaimed. “No wonder you put up with his limits. He’s clearly worth it.” But with that, Stan signaled Paul to release his manhood. “OK, I’m sold. But I don’t want to shoot just yet. However, when I do I want you to do the job. So do hang around.”

Bill and Stan giggled a little, just between them. Stan then asked if Paul had agreed to be butt-fucked, or if that was still off limits. Bill told him no, but that Paul had agreed to fucked for the first time tonight.

“Wow. That’s terrific,” gushed Stan, which also had the effect of getting Paul more aroused. “It’s all up to you and Bill of course, but if you’re up for a gang bang I’d sure love to be one of the first to enter. I’m guessing Bill wants the #1 shot.”

“Where’s the boy-toy you had at your club?” Bill asked. “He was pretty decent looking and clearly well trained. I wouldn’t mind playing with him a little as a start to the evening.”

“Oh, he’s here all right,” responded Stan. “I’ve got him spread-eagled in the playroom. Feel free to do whatever you like– but just don’t do anything that will spoil our fun for later on.”

“Of course not,” Bill promised. “But I feel like a little bit of a workout and he looked like an animal that would respond well to being whipped before being fucked.”

“Either way, my friend,” was Stan’s laughing response. “But if you want the opening fuck of the evening you’re probably too late. I think some of the other guys have discovered him. But you might get in the first flogging.”

Bill led Paul to a nearby room, which turned out to be the clubs extremely well equipped dungeon. That’s also where most of the members and their guests had congregated, and clearly Stan’s slave Matt was a part of the reason. The young, willing boy-toy was indeed spread-eagled with his hands and feet attached, respectively, to hooks in the ceiling and the floor. His smooth hairless body was readily available for whatever the members wanted to do to him, and everyone had ideas.

As Bill and Paul watched, a succession of guys approached Matt from behind and thrust their hard cocks into his tight little bubble-butt. They took their time, encouraged by the cheering of the onlookers. Meanwhile, Bill saw his chance and picked up a nearby whip. No one was attacking the slave from the front, so Bill got to land the first lashes of the evening onto the exposed belly and chest of the helpless victim. The youth squirmed from the obvious pain, but did not cry out. Instead, he responded as he had been trained, and as he responded to each guy who fucked him:

“Thank you, sir.”

The propriety of the reaction turned Bill on even more, and now he proceeded to turn his attention–and the whip –to the kid’s cock and balls. The cock was erect and made a great target, but reaching the balls took a little expertise. Fortunately, Bill was very experienced and able to inflict the pain of the lash on the full set of genitals. But the only verbal reaction was added expressions of appreciation. Bill always had admired what a great job Stan did training slaves, but felt this was exceptional and made a mental note to complement his friend.

But the strangest reaction was that of Paul. As he watched the remarkable scene that was unfolding, he found himself particularly turned on by how Matt was reacting.

“Would you like to whip me too?” Paul found himself asking Bill, as much to his own surprise as to Bill’s. “I see another set of shackles, and I think it would actually be a big turn-on for some of the members and improve my chances of winning. I’ve never really played slave, but maybe I’ve missed out.” Paul did not want to admit to Bill how turned on this scene had made him.

Bill didn’t hesitate. He handed the whip to another member, who continued the fun with Matt, and very quickly led Paul to the nearby set of shackles, quickly positioning and securing him in the same X position as Matt–two slaves side by side and ready for use. Bill then took a chance and inquired of his new property.

“I do think this will turn you on. But it would do so even more if we start with that butt-fuck you agreed to earlier. After all, that’s the most appropriate use of a slave, and if you want to have the full experience, and win all the prizes, it’s essential.”

Paul hesitated. He actually had a virgin asshole, and had prided himself on never having been ass-fucked. But Bill had a point, and Paul was somehow very anxious to please and to keep his promise.

“Sure. I’m all yours. Go for it. No limits.”

Bill was ecstatic. This had been his dream for a very long time, and now it was coming true. As Paul had made his speech of submission, Stan had wandered in to join the fun, and heard the offer.

“Well, that certainly simplifies things, doesn’t it?” Stan commented. “So, like I said before, I assume you want the first fuck. But I’d sure like to go next.”

Bill was a very generous person, and he really liked Stan. “No, you’re club president, and getting him here was actually your idea. So you go first, while I start the whipping. Besides, you’re still the best trainer in the club–as illustrated by your little hunk of boy-meat I just enjoyed.”

Stan appreciated the gesture, and wasted no time thrusting his aroused cock into Paul’s virgin ass. There was no foreplay or lube–Stan liked the reaction of guys getting the full thrust. “I had planned to have you suck me off, but frankly this is a lot better,” Stan informed his target. “Being the first guy to shoot a load up your butt will be a huge turn-on. It’s pretty rare we get a virgin butt in here.”

“Hey,” Paul began to protest. “I really had in mind having Bill fuck me, but at least use a condom.”

“No way,” came Stan’s quick response, as he started thrusting in and out of the very tight hole. “You said no limits, and around here that means no limits. As you’ll learn as the evening proceeds, the members make the rules. The slaves just obey and serve. You’ve now agreed to be a slave, and there is no turning back.”

Paul was upset, but before he could protest further he felt the first stoke of Bill’s whip hit his flesh. He had also never been whipped, and he was surprised how much it hurt. He inadvertently let out a scream, and a second one with the second stroke. Bill ignored the screams, actually increasing his efforts so that they began to lacerate Paul’s beautiful tight flesh, and Paul began to plead with him to stop.

“This isn’t turning me on,” Paul pleaded. “Please stop and let me loose.” But Paul’s hard cock put the lie to his complaints, and Bill didn’t really care at this point. What mattered, and what always mattered, is that the combination of whipping his favorite sex object while his buddy fucked him from behind was massively turning on Bill. And Stan.

It didn’t take Stan long to shoot his load, given how excited he was, and then it was Bill’s turn. They switched places, so that Stan could enjoy whipping Paul while Bill relieved his sexual tension at Paul’s expense. In and out, in and out, Bill kept the thrusts moving and increased the speed. The large load of cum Stan had deposited made a nice lubricant, for which Bill thanked Stan. When he finally released his load, it was probably the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. He was spent from the effort, but still completely turned on.

After the two friends had finished fucking Paul, they released him from the shackles. Paul was very upset, and now demanded to leave the club.

“Sorry, slave. Like I said before, it’s too late. You leave when we’re done with you.” Stan showed the authority that had gotten him elected president of the club.

The beating had left Paul weakened, so the two members had no problem securing him to a nearby wall, where he was forced to kneel. They explained that they had other business to take care of for a while, but they wanted Paul to remain useful.

“Our members like to drink beer,” Bill explained. “And that means they need a urinal. Until we get done with our other task, you’re the lucky recipient of all that piss. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll start your instructions personally.” And with that, Bill forced Paul’s mouth open and released a huge load of piss down Paul’s protesting throat.

“I don’t think he’s going to win the attitude award,” Stan speculated. They both laughed as they walked away from the horrified young man, who was quickly approached and used by another member. Both Stan and Bill noticed, however, that Paul’s cock was still hard.

The task awaiting Bill and Stan was to prepare Stan’s slave Matt for its next use. Unlike Paul, there was no protest when they released the shackles, and Matt stood obediently while they discussed their plans.

“How many main events do you plan tonight?” Bill asked. “It’s usually just one, right?”

“It is, but tonight I plan on two. No point using up too many of our slaves at the same time, but I had already planned to use up Matt and I think it would be instructive for Paul to see Matt’s fate first.”

“True,” Bill mused, “but it does seem a shame to use up Paul all at once. We could save him until next week, and have some fun in the meantime. He could spend the week considering what might happen, and we’d have more time to plan.”

“Deal,” Stan agreed. “Good thinking. So now we just need to figure out what to do with this one. Any preferences?”

“Well, I think his skin and his attitude are his best features. And it clearly should be something slow, after everyone gets in a good fuck. I’d suggest skinning him alive. If we’re careful, he’d still be alive when we start the feast.”

Stan saw the logic of this and quickly agreed. Matt was listening, but made no objections, even while Bill had stroked his smooth skin when describing the idea of removing it. Stan had trained him well, and if his masters wanted to gang rape him, skin him alive, and then eat his flesh while he was still alive, then that was clearly their right. His duty would be to provide as much entertainment as possible and stay alive as long as possible to prolong his pain and their enjoyment.

Once Stan and Bill had made their decisions, Bill instructed one of the waiters to let everyone know the main event would start in about an hour. He also had him invite everyone to join him in appreciating a final dance form the attraction.

“Matt had wanted to be a dancer, but I explained to him he wasn’t good enough, and really only deserved to be a slave, and ultimately a source of meat. But I figure we can let him entertain us before we snuff him and eat him. It should be fun.”

Matt was thrilled and honored by what he overheard Stan tell Bill. So when he was told to go up on a nearby stage and perform for the club, he did so willingly. Before he started, Stan provided the introduction.

“As my fellow members know, one of our club traditions is to stage an entertaining snuff scene each Saturday evening, featuring one of the guests. Tonight it will be this young slave, whom all of you have enjoyed fucking during the course of the evening. I’ve decided, after chatting with my buddy Bill, that the most fun would be to skin him alive and then serve him to all of you for a very fresh meat entree. With a little luck, you can cut off a piece while he’s still alive. So, before he does a final dance for our entertainment, let’s do our traditional auction to see who gets to join in the fun.”

With that, Stan conducted a brief but very vigorous auction among the guests to determine who would get the final fuck, who would do the skinning, and who would get to cut off the cock and balls once he was skinned and ready to serve. The results of the auction easily paid for the expenses of the evening, and the young slave fetched a good sum.

The dance was very well done, both lively and sexy. Stan didn’t let it go on too long, as the members were getting both anxious and a little hungry. So Matt was led down from the stage after enduring one last fuck from the winning bidder. He was laid on an autopsy table, which helped keep the flow of blood and such from getting too messy as Stan (who won the bid on doing the skinning) inserted the knife just above his chest to start the fun. The members cheered as Stan expertly sliced down to the top of Matt”s crotch, and then slowly peeled back the skin. He did the same with the arms and legs, but left the head and genitals uncut. The head would be added to the clubs trophy case, and it was the right of the winning bidder for the cock and balls to have them still in perfect shape when they were removed. Matt had maintained a hard-on during the dance and for the start of the fatal torture session, and Stan had tied off the prize so it would still be hard, which it was. Bill had won that bid, and made sure he cut as slowly as possible to enhance and prolong the pain.

Matt lasted through the entire process, although clearly he was going to die soon. So the winning bidders on his choice cuts of meat helped themselves, removing breast meat, liver, kidneys, thighs, and all the rest of the delicious treats that had once been a gorgeous young male. There was a nearby hibachi for those who wanted the meat cooked, but most ate it raw, many while Matt was still able to watch. Of course, once the feast began he didn’t last long. But everyone agreed he had been a very accommodating, and tasty, young piece of live meat.

After the meal, Bill returned to where Paul was still secured in his role as the club urinal. All the guys had used him by now, and he was both scared and subdued.

“Oh, we’re not worried about that. All of the guests understand what would happen to them if they told. And no one would believe them anyway. Besides, one of the members is the chief of police.

“What I came over to tell you is that you’ve won the prize. You’re clearly the most attractive guest. However, the bad news is that we lied about it being money. The prize is that you’re the main event next Saturday. And between now and then, you’ll get training from Stan and a chance to continue to serve both as a urinal and as a sex object. I get to decide how we snuff you, so if you have preferences be sure to let me know. I won’t necessarily follow them, but it would be fun to chat about it.”

Paul was horrified. Things had gotten completely out of control. After watching what had happened to Matt, he had no doubt Bill was telling the truth. He knew he would die the following week. And yet, there was something exciting about it. He had always been a prostitute since he had reached puberty, and he had gotten real pleasure out of serving other guys. Despite his terror, he was actually aroused û and his cock hardened a bit as Bill spoke. Bill noticed the effect, and smiled.

“I always knew you were really a masochist at heart. All prostitutes are. I just didn’t know how much. So now I’ll find out.”

Epilogue

Paul trained well during the following week. Once resigned to his fate, he decided to play his part. And Stan and Bill, who jointly did the training, were very skilled. They and their friends dropped by the club each day to use Paul sexually, and to experiment with various forms of torture. They found that, while Paul responded well to flogging, he responded better to electric shock. They tested him with near-death shocking, which was a huge turn-on for their newfound student. And, of course, both they and the club staff made full use of Paul whenever they needed to pee. He also turned out to be a very talented urinal, never spilling a drop.

Bill and Stan were so pleased with their new pet that they actually kept him in training for two weeks instead of the usual one, snuffing another young male the next Saturday. This met with approval form the club members, who also wanted another week of using Paul before torturing him to death and consuming his flesh. The guy who was snuffed instead proved adequate, but most of the members felt he wasn’t really as cooperative as he should have been. They compensated for that by extending the pre-snuff torture session, and looked forward to Paul’s performance.

Paul did not disappoint. He was fully trained by the time he was offered to the club for their weekly ritual, and he showed as much enthusiasm as Matt had done. His trainers had decided to do a combination of emasculating him and chocking him. They tied piano wire around his genitals, after securing him so he couldn’t move. Then they attached the two ends of the wire to the tops of two large buckets that were suspended on either side of the victim. The idea was simple. During the course of the evening, as the guys needed to piss, they would do so in the buckets. As the buckets gained weight from the liquid, it would have the effect of pulling the wire and tightening it around the base of the scrotum. In due course, the wire would be pulled tight and the prized
Man-meat would be cut from Paul’s body, falling into yet a third bucket. It took a very long time, and the members really got into the fun of combining a needed piss with a little greater incision into Paul’s proudest assets. When the flesh finally was decapitated and Paul let out an appropriate scream of agony and humiliation, the resulting cheer was accompanied by nearly every club member shooting his load. It had worked even better than Bill and Stan had anticipated. And, of course, there was a prize for the guy whose piss had triggered the final separation.

Now that Paul was a eunuch, there was no further point keeping him alive, and Bill bid in the right to finish him off. He did so slowly, using his strong hands to choke off Paul’s breathing, enjoying the feel of the life ebbing from his victim. As he did so, the winning bidders began cutting away their prized meat selections, adding to Paul’s pain and Bill’s pleasure. But everyone made sure it was Bill’s careful efforts that finally ended Paul’s life. And everyone agreed it had been one of their best sessions, well worth the extra week’s efforts at training.

The words were appended to the photo of a young man’s torso—lean and smooth, with some muscles but not overly buff or developed. Dark areolae surrounded the nipples, two hard plugs of pale flesh. It was a body that would appeal to a lot of dudes.

It certainly appealed to Joe.

He’d been skimming through a hookup app on a phone belonging to one of his prior kills—he couldn’t remember which one; after a while, the meat tends to blur—when he came across the pic. He knew the moment he read the words that this little motherfucker was gonna be his bitch tonight.

He responded to the ad with nothing but a photo of his own torso. No words were needed; his massive, fur-covered pecs and ripped hairy abs spoke for themselves. And given how fast the horny little cunt replied, they didn’t just speak, they commanded.

“Hell yeah dude u got the power to stick it in me and make it hurt? Want ya to hurt me”

For a moment, Joe started blankly at the small screen, unable to believe his luck. When he finally responded, it was with a broad, shark-like grin and an erection so hard it hurt. “Yeah boy I’ll hurt u good I promise”

He’d be as good as his word—it was a promise he’d keep with pleasure.

The reply was swift. “Cool cum now”

Along with it was a map location file. Joe opened it and noted with interest the neighborhood; most of the houses in that area were million-dollar-plus mansions. This should be interesting, he decided; clearly this kid was living with his parents or other relatives. At least it wasn’t a gated community, and it wasn’t too far away—only about twenty minutes if he took the freeway.

Joe didn’t need any time to prepare. The image reflected in his bedroom mirror was adequate for the purpose; it showed a dark-haired, muscular stud in black clothing—a t-shirt that was two sizes too small, so skin-tight that his large nipples were clearly defined on his broad chest. Below the waist (circled by a thick leather belt with a large buckle of dull, burnished metal), his jeans were equally revealing. His crotch bulged and a thick ridge was traceable halfway down his thigh. The mirror didn’t reach down far enough to reflect his slightly worn harness boots.

Pulling up the app, he texted “OMW” and headed out the door. Outside, the summer night was hot and unusually humid. Even on the highway, with the T-top of his Camaro open, a slight gleam of perspiration burnished Joe’s bulging biceps and hairy forearms. He stepped on the gas and headed into the dark night.

The address wasn’t in a gated community, but the house he was headed to had gates—luckily, they were open. A long drive led up to massive, rambling house, its exterior done in a half-timbered, faux-Tudor style that owed nothing to historical accuracy. He followed the driveway past the courtyard that contained multiple garages, around to the main entrance, where he parked and exited the car. No lights showed anywhere in the façade of the house.

The double front door sat in darkness under a deep porch, but the darkness wasn’t so intense that Joe failed to spot a security camera aimed directly at him. He paused on the doorstep, considering his options. The idea of being caught on camera was disturbing—but on the other hand, he’d probably been on video since he’d driven onto the property.

If that was true, he needed to get inside in any case and see if he could find the recording; he wasn’t about to leave that kind of evidence behind. He knocked at the door and was surprised to find it open immediately.

The figure in the doorway was lit from behind by a dim lamp in the rear of the foyer. It took Joe a moment to focus on the lithe, lean form which soon resolved into a youth with tousled blonde hair. The boy was shorter than Joe, with a snub nose and freckles across his cheeks. His smooth, slim abdomen was bare; the only clothing he wore was a pair of lounge pants—the striped flannel looked like pajama bottoms. His feet, in white ped socks, seemed to slide on the polished parquet flooring of the vestibule.

“Come in,” the kid said abruptly, glancing out the door before shutting it hurriedly, “Quick, before anyone sees ya.”

Since the nearest neighbor was at least a heavily-landscaped half-mile away, Joe grinned at the boy’s paranoia. The youth noticed the look of contemptuous amusement and blushed.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered shamefacedly, “But seriously, dude, I gotta keep this on the DL. My folks’ll freak if they find out; they don’t even know I like dick. I mean, they’re on vacation, but I gotta be careful, y’know? I even shut off the security cameras so nothin’ will be recorded.”

That was what Joe needed to know. He could let the beast out tonight, and let it rage unchained.

“This way,” the kid said, heading up the stairs. “I’m Bart, by the way.”

Joe grunted his reply and followed, the thump of his boots echoing in the cavernous stairwell. Like the rest of the house, the upper hall was shrouded in in darkness. Bart led the way towards an open double door from which an orange light flickered.

Once inside the doors, Joe looked around and realized he was in the largest bedroom he’d ever seen. On the far right, in a large window-filled bay, was a huge TV with a pair of recliners in front of it. To the immediate right was a California king waterbed sheathed in plush mauve velour.

Just opposite the door was a large gas fireplace, already lit. The kid was standing in front of it, on what appeared to be a bear-skin rug; the rug was surrounded by a divan and a couple of chairs, all upholstered in thick mohair. On the left was a large cheval mirror that appeared to be an antique. Its handsome appearance was somewhat jarring, given the off-putting décor of the rest of the room.

The older man approached the boy, who was standing with his back to the fireplace. As he got closer, he could almost feel the heat from the lust in the kid’s eyes was they slid over his well-defined form.

“Strip, boy,” Joe said. “Let’s see what ya got.”

As Bart reached for the drawstring at the waist of his flannel pants, he turned his large blue-gray eyes up to Joe and grinned. “Goddam, dude—I wanna see what you got, too. Bet a big fucker like you’s got the tackle to tear my ass up good.” He dropped the pants as he spoke, revealing his legs, his firm thighs smooth while his calves were shaded with a faint golden fuzz. Six inches of thick but semi-soft boycock dangled from a tangled mass of dirty blond pubes.

Smirking, Joe peeled off his shirt, revealing his powerful, V-shaped torso, wide across his broad, hubcap pecs and narrowing to his tight, firm waist. The fur on his sculpted abs darkened and thickened as it descended his flat belly in a black treasure trail that vanished behind the dull burnished steel of his belt buckle. Above the dark forest on his pecs, the firm twin mounds of his large nipples protruded, hard in the open air.

At the sight, Bart’s dick stiffened and enlarged. His eyes followed Joe’s hand as it descended to his crotch below the belt buckle and grasped the zipper. Slowly and longingly, the youth’s eyes lowered with the zipper itself, achingly tracing its path until the fly was wide enough for Joe to reach in and extract his enormous shaft.

Joe laughed out loud. “Treat ya like shit? You are shit, faggot. And I’m gonna make damn sure you know it.”

The blond youth wriggled like a bitch in heat. “Yeah,” he squealed, “Oh fuck yeah…”

Joe had reached the bearskin rug; turning so that the orange glare of the gas fireplace was out of his eyes, he was able to note a few more details about the room—the faint tiger-stripe pattern on the velour bedspread, the utter incongruousness of the saccharine Thomas Kinkade print on the far wall…

…and the useless and unused set of elaborate cast-iron fire tools set to one side of the fireplace. Turning his back to the kid, he went to the set and pulled out the poker, holding it up and examining the brass-handled shaft of iron.

Whirling back to the boy with a broad smile on his face, he realized that his control was slipping. There wasn’t gonna be any foreplay with this little fucker. “Ya ready, fag?” he asked and without waiting for a response, swung the poker like he was aiming for the fences.

It connected with Bart’s left flank with a loud thump, knocking the kid to his knees. The boy screeched in pain and clutched his side. He looked up a Joe, his expression a confused mix of pain and angry bewilderment; his large blue-gray eyes full of tears.

“Hey,” he gasped in ragged breaths, “Whatdja do that for?”

“You needed to be punished, right, bitch? Your own words. So I’m gonna make damn sure you get punished real good—ya get me, cocksucker?”

Panic gripped Bart’s hormone-drenched mind as he writhed in searing pain; despite this nightmarish turn of events, his dick was somehow still hard. His rich suburban white-boy psyche hadn’t been able to fully assimilate the onslaught of violence; some part of him still seemed to be expecting hot raunchy mansex. At least, his hot throbbing cock seemed to expect it.

Joe was still planning on hot raunchy mansex as well—he just wanted to tenderize the meat a little first.

Bart rolled over and climbed awkwardly to his feet, whimpering and blubbering and unable to bend his right knee. “No,” the young blond faggot sobbed, “No, not this—I just wanted your dick, dude, please…”

The lean, smooth youth, his tear-streaked face ashen with shock, tried to move backwards in a clumsy hopping motion. Surprisingly, he managed to remain vertical even as Joe approached. The alpha tossed the poker down onto one of the sofas as he passed by—both hands were free when he reached out and grabbed hold of the unfortunate punk.

Joe held Bart by the upper arms, lifting him straight into the air until the kid’s white ped socks dangled a good four inches above the floor. He brought the little pansy’s face up to his, and for the first time, Bart got a really good look at the seething rage boiling in the eyes of the stud—the sexy stud he’d thought would make this a perfect evening.

The fact that the rage was obviously entwined with a smoldering lust somehow only seemed to make the situation more terrifying. And worst of all—his own dick was still so pulsatingly erect it ached as precum trickled from his enlarged piss slit.

“You wanted me to spit on ya? You wanted me to treat ya like shit? You got it, ya cumguzzlin’ motherfucker; I’ll treat ya like the piece of shit you are. Don’t worry, asswipe, I’m gonna make damn sure you not only know exactly what a worthless faggot you are—you’ll feel it.”

Bart shook his head numbly, hearing the words but refusing to understand them. He couldn’t refuse to listen to the pain, though—the throbbing in his left side, up under the ribs, the horrific pain in his right knee, the increasing ache in his shoulders as they were forced to support his entire body weight…none of it could be ignored. The kid moaned incoherently as he kicked vainly in midair.

“No…no…not this…not here…not me…” he mumbled in stupefied shock.

“You, here and now—and this,” Joe snarled. Bart experienced a violent sensation of movement that lasted only a split second before a sudden shattering impact that left him dazed and shuddering in agony on the floor. It took more than a sixty seconds for the realization that he’d been thrown into—and through—the cheval mirror. Groaning loudly, the slim, smooth youth was rolling on top of small shards of mirror glass, grinding them into his back.

“Ya like that one, cunt?” Joe chuckled, strolling in Bart’s direction. “I sure did. Teachin’ little fucks like you their place always gets me hard. You gotta a lot of learnin’ to do in the next hour, you faggot slut. You like pain, ya disgusting little perv? Then suffer, scumbag!”

Reaching Bart as he spoke, Joe raised his foot and placed it on Bart’s crotch. Without the slightest hesitation, the sadistic alpha applied pressure, grinding the horny, hormone-riddled youth’s cum-filled ballsack under his bootheel. The boyslut’s moaning spiraled up into the piercing squeal of a terrified pig.

“Aw, yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Joe chortled. “Ya feelin’ me, boy?” He pressed down, crushing Bart’s thick boycock under the sole of his boot. The oozing ridge of flesh remained erect despite the intense pain—Bart screamed in agony until his voice cracked, but was still aware of his unaccountably rigid tool.

The brutal stud ground down on the shrieking punk’s scrotum; for a few terrifying seconds, Bart’s testicles were in such excruciating pain that he thought they really would burst. Then suddenly the inexorable pressure was gone. It was such a relief that the boy almost passed out; the pain in his knee was practically forgotten. It didn’t last long.

Joe struck out with his strong, muscled leg, his steel-toed boot catching the prone slut on the hip. It was a swift, vicious kick, with enough force to flip the writhing whoreboy over onto his stomach, revealing the multiple lacerations from mirror shards on his back. “Fuckin’ cunt,” the cruel alpha muttered.

Bart was in deep fear. This hadn’t worked out like he’d planned at all. He was just gonna find a hot stud and get some dick tonight before his folks got back tomorrow; instead, he was on the floor in nightmarish pain and his parents’ bedroom had morphed from a passion pit to a scene of brutal violence. He didn’t—wouldn’t—follow the scenario to its logical conclusion, but he knew he had to get out before things got any worse. Unsteadily, he rose to his hands and knees. Well, one knee. He still couldn’t get the right one to bend right; it hurt too much to try. He made a motion towards the door in a wobbly crawl—and then he heard Joe’s quietly mocking voice behind him.

“Tryin’ to fly, little bird? Maybe it’s time to clip a wing.”

Bart turned his head and looked up as the buff sadist walked up to him. Despite the way tears had blurred his vision, he could see the tall man looming over him with desperate clarity. The dude’s enormous hog was dangling over him, dripping hot beads of precum into the kids’ blond hair. Beyond the huge hairy expanse of muscled chest, the hard, handsome face looked down on him, glowing with a bizarre mixture of lust and incandescent contempt.

It was terrifying and erotic; he’d have pissed himself if his dick wasn’t so hard.

Then Joe stepped kicked at the queerboy’s left leg, making him fall flat to the floor. Stepping up to where Bart’s arms were stretched out on the floor above his head, the sick stud placed his big black boot in the middle of the boy’s right forearm, halfway between the hand and the elbow.

Smiling cheerfully, but without saying a word, the powerful alpha bent down, grabbed the boy’s right wrist. His biceps bulging, the muscled sadist pulled upwards with a mighty jerk. There was a loud double snapping sound, like tree branches breaking, as Joe bent the fucker’s arm to ninety degrees, shattering the radius and ulna almost simultaneously.

Bart tried to scream; the cold, glassy pain of fractured bone tore through his lean, tortured frame. He opened his mouth, instinctively taking a lungful of air, but before the pent-up shriek could escape, there was a flash, a violent impact, and the young slut slumped to the floor—not completely unconscious, but lost in a dark haze, shot through with flashes of agony like bolts of lightning.

Joe chuckled; the kick he’d aimed at the faggot’s head had connected perfectly with the asswipe’s jaw. “That oughtta keep ya quiet for a bit, dickwad,” the older man smirked as he walked away, heading for the huge waterbed.

When he reached the bed, Joe sat on the velour bedspread; crossing his legs, he slowly pulled his left boot off, letting it fall to the floor with a loud thump. Across the room, the kid flinched at the sound. Joe, stripping the white, calf-high tube sock from his leg, kept his eye on the punk as the latter began slowly and painfully wriggling his way towards the door. No need to rush; there was no way the badly abused meat was gonna be able to reach the door before Joe was done gettin’ naked.

And if he did, were was the little shit gonna go? The brutal alpha had made sure his fucktoy was too badly fucked up to make it down the stairs.

Bart was unable to think that logically; he was driven by a reflexive drive to flee imminent danger. But it hurt to move, it hurt so fuckin’ bad… How did this happen? This wasn’t supposed to happen. He hadn’t meant it about the pain, please, dear God, he hadn’t really meant—please, no, no more pain…

He’d managed to squirm some four feet across the room before he heard the unmistakable thud of the dude’s other boot hitting the floor. Moaning in terror, the lean, smooth boy tried to increase his speed but only managed to intensify his pain. He inched along on his belly, his long hard cock scraping uncomfortably across the wood floor. Every movement of his limbs sent jagged shockwaves of suffering through his slim firm body as his shattered kneecap was pressed against the boards under him. Even worse was the searing torture as the splintered ends of broken bones ground together in his arm.

Behind him, Joe stood up, peeling his tight jeans off his thick, muscles legs. Folding the faded denim neatly, he placed them on the bed, next to his leather belt. The belt, though, he picked back up before heading toward the shuddering, crawling mass of battered flesh.

Without his boots, Bart couldn’t hear Joe coming closer, but he could feel the powerful tremors of the bulked-out stud’s footfalls. They were coming closer, oh holy fuck, this crazy motherfucker is getting nearer—

And then he was there. Joe bent down and looped the belt around Bart’s throat before the kid realized what happened. The towering killer whirled, jerking the helpless punk around and dragging him back towards the fireplace. Bart’s airway wasn’t completely constricted but it was cinched off enough that it cut off the agonized scream building in his chest.

Joe bent down and picked up the poker again as he passed the sofa on the way back to the fireplace; Bart, being dragged along on the floor behind him, saw the action but was suffering too badly to assign any significance to it.

Once he reached the bearskin rug, Joe spun around, flinging the lean, limp boyslut onto the center of the rug and whipped the belt from around his throat. As the raw leather on the inside of the belt was torn away, it took the top layer of skin with it, leaving an angry red welt of raw flesh around Bart’s neck.

Joe tossed the belt aside—it landed on the sofa in the same spot the poker had been—and stood over the smooth young boy. Bart was writhing in excruciating pain; he’d been dragged and thrown around like a sack of potatoes—not like a human being with internal injuries and multiple broken bones. Even the wood floor bore witness to Bart’s torment; it was streaked with blood that trickled from the lacerations on his back.

On his back, groaning fitfully, the dazed homo opened his eyes, focusing blearily on the alpha stud towering over him. Joe was nude, his cock magnificently erect and jutting out a good eight inches in front of him, hot transparent drops of precum seeping from the engorged head. Beyond the huge hard shaft, the killer’s torso widen from the tight waist up to the dark forest of fur clinging to the broad and powerfully muscled chest. And above that, the merciless glare of hate, contempt—and somehow, lust…

“No…” Bart whispered in a croak as Joe lowered himself, grinning.

“Yeah,” Joe said. “Time to take it in the ass, cunt.”

On his knees, Joe grabbed Bart’s legs and forced them apart. Without a pause—and without even so much as spitting on it—he rammed his enormous tool into the kid’s quivering fuckhole. The thick, vein-wrapped dick tore open the boy’s clenched sphincter like tissue paper before ripping its way through his colon and lodging deep in his guts.

After all he’d endured, Bart had thought he’d gotten jaded to the pain. He was wrong. Holy fuckin’ shit, was he wrong. For a brief, insane moment, the slut thought someone had jammed a steel umbrella up his ass and opened it. He shrieked so intensely that his voice cracked again; his mouth was open, but only a croaking, gasping noise emerged.

Still unable to control his breathing or his voice, Bart could only stare up at Joe, his mouth and his blue-gray eyes open wide in shock and horror—and his innards full of mancock. He was finally getting fucked by the hot stud, just the way he wanted, but he no longer wanted it.

Joe knew it. It just made him hornier and more vicious. “This what you were lookin’ fer, cunt?” he said with malicious glee. “This what ya wanted when you asked for someone to hurt ya? Gotta tell ya, fag, the moment I saw yer add I knew I was gonna be makin’ you into fuckmeat tonight.”

Bart was shaking his head in denial—not of Joe’s words; he wasn’t in an adequate condition to comprehend or process the sense of what was being said to him. It was a denial of reality, of the horrific universe of pain in which he found himself. But the agony was too intense to be denied, and that was the reality that was etched in tense lines across the youth’s taut, tortured face.

As he relentlessly pounded Bart’s ass, the brutal alpha knew shock was setting in; the boy wasn’t listening anymore. And he didn’t want that. The little fucker wasn’t meat yet; there was still plenty of time for a good mindfuck. All he needed to do was grab the homo’s attention.

The loud smack of flesh on flesh merged seamlessly with the punk’s grunt of pain as his lips were split under the impact of Joe’s blow. His head rocked back and stuck the floor violently but the bearskin rug cruelly provided enough padding to prevent Bart being knocked out. As his head rebounded, it was met with another line-drive blow straight from Joe’s shoulder; this one was rewarded with a loud crunch as the boywhore’s nose was crushed.

The kid’s lean body, bathed in sweat wrung from his physical torment, jerked rhythmically as Joe continued to force his massive hog up Bart’s torn, bleeding rectum. The young pansy was dazed from the sadist’s powerful punches; he was stunned and limp in an excruciating aura of suffering.

The muscular alpha leaned down and whispered into Bart’s ear. He was close enough that despite his flattened, bloody nose, the kid could still smell his rank, powerful mansweat, laden with testosterone. Bart brought up his left arm—his right was lying uselessly by his side, bent into an impossible shape—and tried to brace himself, placing his palm flat on Joe’s chest. It was a futile gesture of protest; it had no impact on his assailant.

Bart could only curl his fingers in his torturer’s chest hair and hang on as the top raped his ass and fucked his mind. “If ya liked that, you sick fuck, yer gonna cream when ya find out what I got planned for ya. I’m gonna snuff you, faggot. I’m gonna kill you. You’re gonna die here, tonight, with my cock buried in your guts. Don’t that sound fuckin’ hot? Hell yeah, cunt, time to die!”

Bart moaned faintly. The pain of the beating radiated through his lean, fit body, but the searing agony of the huge tube of manflesh, barbed with thick veins, that impaled his guts was what he was suffering from the most. This pain was alive and sentient, it tore its way through his tender innards, mercilessly keeping pressure on his prostate—and keeping him achingly erect.

“Yer dick is oozin’” Joe guffawed. “That gets ya off, huh? Yer just lovin’ the thought of gettin’ offed by a real man—ha! Fuckin’ piece a’ shit faggot—all you cocksuckers deserve to be killed, an’ all y’all know it, too. Every homo I snuff cums as it dies. You ain’t gonna be no different, motherfucker. I’m gonna put you down and yer gonna blow your fuckin’ load, and it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good on my dick.”

With his cock still buried balls-deep in the battered and broken boy, Joe rose up on his knees, turned, and picked up the poker. Straitening himself, he held it up horizontally in front of Bart, then slowly lowered it until it touched his neck—a bar of iron running across the trembling boy’s throat.

Bart could feel the cold metal pressing against the skin. He knew what was coming but refused to consciously acknowledge it. That didn’t stop the fear that was building with him, though; Joe could see the terror in the boy’s eyes. The buff killer grinned and applied pressure.

The poker sank into Bart’s throat like a garrote, just above the larynx. As it pressed deeper into his flesh, it deformed his esophagus more and more, stressing the cartilage and closing off the airway. Bart’s crushed nose had already been interfering with his ability to breathe; now, with each passing second, it was becoming more impossible for him to draw breath. Fear turned to panic.

Joe recognized the symptoms and braced himself. He’d already done a good job of hobbling the fuckmeat while he was tenderizing it; the cunt only had one good arm and one good leg. Even so, there is a strength in frenzied desperation that can momentarily compensate for the most intense agony.

Joe leaned back and held on; both his hands were on the poker as he forced it into the punk’s neck, one on each side of the head. While he could have let go with one hand and still kept some pressure on the metal shaft, it wouldn’t have been as evenly applied and he didn’t want to give the meat an inadvertent chance to draw air. Besides, it wasn’t like the little shit could actually hurt him, even in the depths of panic. Nor could he squirm away—he was pinned to the bearskin rug by Joe’s huge engorged cock.

The muscled alpha jerked his head up and back, out of the range of the kid’s left hand which had come up, clawing and fluttering around his face like a startled bird. Curling his toes, the hulking sadist flexed his powerful thighs and ram-rodded his swollen tool deep into the meat’s fuckhole. The veins on the thick tube of flesh rode over the helpless youth’s prostate like the ridges on a ribbed condom. The boy responded with a dramatic increase in precum; the steady stream that emerged from the purple tip left a smeared trail in the body fur as the homo’s dick slapped and slid against his rapist’s flat, firm belly.

As the last remaining space in his windpipe was closed off, Bart’s labored breathing became a shrill squeal, then stopped for good. His strained face, already bruised enough to make recognition difficult, began to darken and swell. Now his panic reached a point near dementia—now, even searing agony wasn’t enough to penetrate the vortex of asphyxiation-driven terror.

Bart turned into a writhing animal, flailing in blind panic. He beat against Joe, his left hand balled into a fist, his useless right hand flopping as the right arm thrashed; the excruciating agony of the broken bone ends grinding together having no effect in Bart’s mindless fear. Both of the meat’s legs were wrapped around Joe’s tight waist, kicking in the air— and despite the sheer torture of the slut’s shattered right kneecap, the right leg was flung with such force that the ped sock flew off, a white ball of cotton that landed on one of the chairs.

Bart was finally getting what he wanted—the fuck of a lifetime by someone who was willing to hurt him the way he needed to be hurt. It was a shame it hurt so much more than he’d anticipated that he was only vaguely aware he was being fucked at all—but it was what he deserved.

And his hard cock proved it, straining, glistening, erect, and as purple as Bart’s face.

“Ya know what happens when ya die?” Joe whispered to the shuddering meat in a low, erotic tone, as the poker sank even deeper into his neck. “Your asshole starts to spasm. As your brain begins to die, your body will shudder and convulse. It’s gonna hurt like fuck, but it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good on my cock. Ain’t that cool? Yer gonna suffer the way all you little fuckin’ faggots need to, and you’ll give your worthless life meaning by milking out my load as you die. Just lay back and lemme snuff yer homo ass, bitch.”

Bart stared at Joe, his eyes bulging with hypoxia and shock. The cute, snub-nosed blond was almost unrecognizable. The meat’s face was swollen and black, the tongue protruding horribly, surrounded by foamy drool. The whites of the eyes were turning red as tiny blood vessels started to rupture within.

The dying boy heard Joe’s words; his brain was starting to shut down, but there was still enough of him left to understand what had been said to him. Images flickered through his fading mind; the romantic shadows that the gas fireplace cast on the bearskin rug, the shattered remains of the cheval mirror—how was he gonna explain that to his folks?—the online photo he’d received of a hairy, muscular, V-shaped torso that has inspired such lust in him. It was the torso of the man who was murdering him.

And it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. Dying didn’t feel good; it wasn’t gentle or peaceful—it hurt like fucking hell. Even the pain of bruised flesh and broken bones faded into the background as the suffering youth felt his lungs strain to function, a fiery pressure like nothing he’d had to endure before. But after a few seconds, it was surpassed by the pressure in his head.

Bart knew his face was swollen; he knew his eyes were bulging and his tongue was sticking out—he could feel it. All of it. Every agonizing second of it. His head was swelling; the pressure within was phenomenal. He didn’t understand why his skull didn’t just burst; the pain was beyond human endurance, and that pounding—that sledgehammer pounding in hear ears and inside his cranium, getting faster and faster…

But somehow, even in the depths of his nightmarish suffering, the slender young cockpig remained aware of the massive dick in his ass, and of his own hard tool, pressed between his sweat-slick, slender body and the hard, muscled form of his killer. As he lost control of his limbs, as the overwhelming pounding of his pulse in his ears reached an insane tempo, he still knew he was being banged like a cheap whore.

White foam trickled down the cunt’s black, puffy cheeks. His left hand no longer grabbed at Joe’s face; it was stroking the side of the alpha’s head in an almost loving caress as Bart’s desperate fight for life faded into a feeble, nearly gentle touch.

“You’re dyin’, motherfucker,” Joe whispered. “Yer lights are goin’ out. Mommy and daddy are gonna come home and find yer worthless, fucked-out ass right here in the middle of their bedroom. They’re gonna see you got beaten and used like the homo cunt ya are.”

Bart nodded, but he wasn’t replying to Joe. He’d reached a tipping point; enough of his brain had died off that he wasn’t coming back—he was starting to convulse. Even if Joe removed the poker, Bart would still end up a vegetable, a brain-dead sack of meat. Sadly for the boy, though, there a piece of him still left aware, a tiny piece of trapped sentience doomed to witness his own death.

Joe could feel the change coming over the meat; he was too experienced in boysnuff not to know what was coming. “Oh hell yeah,” he muttered in sexual anticipation, “Now yer startin’ to work my tool. C’mon, faggot, lessee if we can make ya kick real good—the more you suffer, the harder I cum!”

His face twisted into a hate-filled snarl, Joe shoved forward, his thick biceps bulging and glistening with sweat as he forced the iron rod deep into the queerboy’s neck. Bart hacked and choked, a huge bubble of drool erupting past his swollen tongue, as the poker crushed his esophagus with a wet crackling sound, like someone tearing apart gristle. His protruding, blood-red eyes stared into Joe’s with one last look of horror and despair before rolling back into his head, leaving nothing but a sliver of white showing under the fluttering lashes.

And then the convulsion began. The small corner of awareness inside Bart had no memory capability; it couldn’t recall Joe’s promise that he would suffer horrific pain during his death throes. It was still capable of suffering the pain, though and it did. The unlucky boyslut’s last few seconds on earth were nightmarish.

The meat arched its back, squeezing its hard cock against Joe’s abdomen and the left hand clutched Joe’s right shoulder in an iron grip. The left leg wrapped tightly around Joe’s waist and he could feel the smooth right thigh pressing against his hip—the right calf bent outward grotesquely at the ruined knee. Similarly, the right arm slapped against Joe’s left arm but the hand itself dangled, limp and useless, to the side, jerking randomly as the slim but strong body convulsed violently.

“Shit, you worthless punk,” Joe moaned between gritted teeth, “Keep that shit up, yer gonna get my load.” As the youth convulsed and shuddered under him, the rippling spasms that traveled along the inside of the rectum had a suctioning effect on Joe’s huge shaft; he’d plugged the kid’s colon so completely that the rectum itself was stretched and taut around the massive member, like a condom. Every dying quiver of rectal musculature stroked the sadist’s hog. It felt kinda like getting a handjob and a blowjob simultaneously—and the fact that he had to snuff a fag to feel it only made it more erotic.

As the sperm in his hot, puckered balls began to seethe, Joe grunted. He was losing control himself; in a moment, he’d be shuddering violently himself in orgasm. Not yet, though—the motherfucker was still alive—the meat still needed to know that it was dead—

—then, with a loud, inarticulate cry, Joe jerked and bucked powerfully, driving the poker so forcefully into Bart’s throat that the punk’s head popped forward with the sickening sound of shattering vertebrae. For Bart, it was a bolt of lightning; there was an undefinable sensation of great heat and great pain. For Joe, it was an electric shock that raced through his body and trigged an intense orgasm.

Jets of cum erupted from the killer alpha’s engorged cock, splashing hot manseed deep inside the meat. The meat responded; in the last moments of life, the hot wet geyser in the meat’s ass, the incessant pressure on its prostate and the devastating blow to the nervous system all combined to force a savagely powerful explosion of spunk from the corpse.

The last nerve signals that were transmitted to Bart’s brain were those of his orgasm—but the spinal cord was torn and damaged, so the signals were corrupt. The unfortunate youth could only interpret them as searing pain, as if molten metal or liquid magma was being forced along his urethra; he was too brain dead to know he was cumming longer, harder, and more intensely than he ever had in his short, wasted life.

Joe knew it, though, and could feel its heat and intensity as a solid stream of boycum splattered up his belly and onto his chest, the pearly seed matting his dark chest hair. Load after load of steaming semen splashed across his pecs as both killer and meat continued to jerk and grind against each other’s sweat-and cum-sticky bodies.

After a few minutes, Joe was able to get better control of himself; the magnitude of his orgasm kept him shuddering for a bit longer as he strained to empty his balls. At the same time, the convulsions of the corpse in which his cock was still buried began slow and lessen in ferocity; in another minute, the body was reduced to a twitching pile of meat and Joe was able to pull out without too much trouble. Sometimes, the meat can knot up on yer tool…

Stretching himself and sighing contentedly, the buff, hardbodied alpha ambled off to find the bathroom.

When he did, he noted the palatial appointments—the sunken marble tub, the matching marble vanity tops, the multi-jet rainfall shower—there was even a bidet, for fuck’s sake. Smiling with amused contempt, he grabbed the thickest, most decorative-looking guest towel he could find and, soaking it in the sink, used it to clean the dead boy’s cum off his chest and belly, as well as wiping down his dick.

Then, with a malicious grin, he took the towel over to the tub and wedged a corner of it down into the drain as tightly as he could, before turning the hot water on full blast. As he left the bathroom, he idly wondered how long it would take the tub to overflow. After all, he wasn’t quote done here.

Back in the bedroom, he retrieved his t-shirt and jeans, quickly slipping the shirt on. Tucking the shirt into his pants, he zipped the fly and threaded the belt back around his narrow waist. Then he sat on the bed, pulling his sock and boots back on, eyeing the evening’s work critically as he did.

His experience told him the composition was unfinished. The dead kid was splayed out on his back with both the right arm and right leg bent at impossible angles and a single sock on his left foot. The head was bent forward around the poker as if his was trying to look down his chest. The meat’s face was starting to fade from black back to a cyan blue; it was still swollen and streaked with drool. The eyes no longer protruded quite so grotesquely, but the tongue still did. The smooth chest and belly were smeared with a white crust—the fag’s own cum, some of which was still leaking from his deflating cock.

Something was still needed, something to drive home the contempt Joe felt for the meat—and for the parents who raised it. Something that would—oh, yes. That would work.

Smiling broadly, Joe strode across to the corpse, the loud thumping of his boots fading once he stepped on the bearskin rug. Placing one hand flat on the cunt’s forehead, he shoved it back while grabbing the poker with his other hand. He turned, shifted slightly, and knelt between the meat’s spread legs. With a loud grunt and a single powerful thrust of his arm, Joe rammed the poker up the corpse’s ass, tearing and mutilating the dead flesh until it had gone a good two feet into the meat’s intestines. Only the brass handle and few inches of black iron stuck out of the kid’s ass; the head of the instrument, deep inside the corpse, had been smeared with Joe’s cum as it punched its way through the boy’s innards.

Joe stood up and took a step back for another critical glance. There. That was perfect.

He wasn’t the type to whistle, but if he was, he would have been whistling as he headed for the door; he’d gotten his dick milked and he’d put another fag down good and hard; all in all, a good night’s work. As he got to the bedroom door, something caught his eye—a cellphone on an otherwise bare dresser. Probably the meat’s. That could be handy; he needed to dump the one he’d used to respond to the ad—he’d used it too many times. Didn’t need to be traced.

Powering up the phone, he saw it had a touch lock. Well, that damn sure wasn’t a problem. He strolled back to the corpse and used the stiffening index finger to unlock the phone. Once it was open, he reset the lock to his own finger. Then, in a burst of inspiration, he took some photos of the corpse, from different angles and varying degrees of closeness.

Once he finished recording the brutality he’d visited upon the meat, he turned and left the room. The echo of his big black boots on the staircase lingered for a moment after he’d gone, but soon the big house was quiet, the flickering of the still-lit gas fireplace providing the only hint of heat or motion in the darkness.

Elaine unlocked the front door and stepped into the entryway in a brusque manner indicative of her anger and impatience. The flight had been late and that stupid shuttle bus driver was so slow—and Larry had actually tipped him instead of telling the useless towelhead to go back to driving a camel in whatever fly-ridden country he was from…

Huffing and grunting under the weight of the luggage in the doorway behind her, Larry was no less in a foul mood; his face was red in the overheated way some men get in their mid-forties when they get stressed. “There, I think that’s everything,” he said, dumping the bags on the floor. “Are you sure the maids come back tomorrow? Some of this stuff’s gotta be—”

“Shh!” Elaine cut him off. “What’s that sound?”

Now the she’d drawn his attention to it, he could hear it too. It sounded like a waterfall—or at least, water falling from a height. “It’s coming from the dining room,” he said.

He headed in that direction with his wife following him. In the dining room, their worst fears—for the moment—were confirmed; water was pouring from the ceiling, running down the wires and the chain for the chandelier and splattering all over the antique damask-and-lace tablecloth.

“Oh my God,” Elaine squeaked, “Where’s that coming from?”

“Our bathroom is upstairs,” Larry replied in a dazed voice.

“Oh no, what has Bartholomew been doing?”

At this suggestion, Larry’s face went puce. “By God,” he growled, “If that brat’s responsible for this, I’m gonna take it outta his fuckin’ hide!”

He dashed for the stair, bawling, “You’re dead meat when I get a hold of ya, boy!”

Elaine trailed after him, wailing. “Don’t you hurt him, Larry! It must be an accident!”

Larry raced up the stairs, rounding the turn at the top and propelling himself into the open bedroom door—and there he paused, trying to make some sense of the bizarre scene in front of him. The splashing form the bathroom, the water running across the floor, the broken mirror—and Bart lying naked on the floor. He didn’t look right. Was he drunk? Had he gotten wasted, broken the mirror, left the tub or shower running and passed out in front of the fireplace? If that was the case, Larry was gonna kick his ass so hard. He walked towards the prone youth.

Elaine burst into the room just as Larry realized that Bart had indeed gotten wasted last night, but not in the sense that Larry had originally intended. Looking down at the beaten and strangled corpse of his son, the older man swayed on his feet. Dear God in heaven, what the hell was that sticking out of his ass?

He was in no condition divert his wife from the nauseating sight.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” she demanded as she entered. “Did Bartholomew do all this? Where is he?” She drew level with her husband, took one look down, shrieked at the top of her lungs and fell into a dead faint.

It was all over the local evening news. It didn’t make state news until photos of the corpse began appearing anonymously on social media sites. The first ones targeted were ones to which Larry or Elaine subscribed…

As the slave rotated slowly over the hot coals, its body impaled by an iron spit inserted into its anus that exited through its mouth (to which its hands and feet were tied), it wondered idly how many times it had been killed. But that thought was interrupted as the slave’s elongated cock brushed against the little pile of particularly hot coals placed so that the cock would touch them on each rotation. That pain was extraordinary even compared to the agony caused by the red-hot spit cooking its insides and the excessively hot coals that were blistering its skin as the live meat slave slowly turned and cooked. This was how the demons, who watched, laughed, and used their powers to keep the spit turning, liked human flesh prepared – not just cooked, but burned, especially the delicious cock. The cock was kept so aroused and hard that it was parallel to the horizontal body, enabling its entire underside to scorch as it brushed against the extra-hot pile of coals. The cooking would not kill the slave, which was important since the demons insisted on only eating living flesh. It would be the removal and consumption of the slave’s heart that would once again bring the sensation of death. That would not happen until nearly all the high quality meat on the body was greedily eaten. The real nourishment didn’t come from the meat, which they enjoyed but didn’t need to eat. The nourishment came from the extraordinary pain they were able to inflict both in cooking and in eating. After one of them removed the beating heart and ate that final organ, the slave’s body would reform and the cycle would start again, beginning with sexual torture and humiliation and ending with a creative way of once again preparing the slave as meat for a demon’s feast.

It had been over 2,000 years since the first time the slave had died. That event, like all the thousands in between, was one the slave still vividly remembered, and it could still relive the sensations. It had been in a Roman circus, where it had been displayed as one of the slaves captured by the Emperor Caligula. The capture was a fake, of course, since the Emperor never actually went to war, and the slave had simply been one of the many young males selected by the Emperor because he liked its body and wanted to watch it die. So the slave was brought out naked to the cheers of the crowd, fucked by several huge gladiators, and hacked to death as the cheering increased. The gladiators started by cutting off its penis and testicles, which were presented to the Emperor as trophies. The Emperor tossed the shriveled cock to a nearby slave kneeling beside him on all fours, who ate it doggy-style. But the Emperor picked the man-seeds from the ball sac (which he also tossed to his slave-dog) and popped the fresh meat into his mouth. This further delighted the crowd. Oddly, even though it no longer had any sex organs with which to react, the sight of its former male pride being eaten turned on the slave sexually. It was pleased that it had been used so personally by the great emperor. From its perspective, for a mere slave to have part of its body used as a snack by the Emperor of the Roman World was a great honor. The fact it also meant the slave would die a very painful, humiliating death was of no concern to it (or anyone else).

At a signal from the emperor that he was done with his snack, the gladiators slowly and carefully hacked the slave into pieces, trying to keep it alive as long as possible, laughing and sharing the severed body parts as more crowd-pleasing snacks. The slave died when one of the gladiators, after cutting open its belly and reaching in to remove its liver, reached into the body cavity again and pulled out its heart. The slave was not alive to watch the heart stop beating and get consumed by the triumphant soldier. But this established its method of death for its eternity of pain.

The slave had not resisted or even objected. In fact, it was sexually turned on by having its naked body on display and getting gang-fucked while the crowd watched, so that it was able to maintain an erection until its cock was sliced off. One of the gladiators had masturbated it to the point of orgasm, so that what he cut off was a pulsating cock just starting to emit cum. The clever transformation from pleasure to pain was a huge crowd-pleaser. The slave somehow felt it owed the crowd (and especially the Emperor) as much pleasure as possible for having allowed it to serve them, alerting the gladiator to its impending orgasm so he could have the knife ready and make the timing perfect.

It had been born into slavery, and because it was exceptionally handsome it had been trained and used as a sex slave (among other things, such as a human urinal). Whether it had enjoyed that naturally, or simply become accustomed to being fucked and tortured, was of no matter. The simple fact was that it was seriously turned on by having another guy’s cock up its ass, by being whipped and kicked, by drinking sperm and piss, and by having lots of people watching and enjoying its torment – or, better yet, joining in the fun. That’s why its owner figured it would be a perfect slave to sell to the Emperor, who thrived on torturing young males. The night before its public execution the Emperor had personally fucked and tortured the slave, which had been the greatest honor it could imagine. The Emperor had even considered doing the killing himself, but decided to let the crowd enjoy the scene. The slave was deeply humbled that the Emperor would even consider such an honor, and went to its public death quite content with its life.

The slave had only limited understanding of heaven and hell, or even the concept of an afterlife, while it was alive. Its understanding really began the instant it died. To its amazement, it was able to watch the soldier pull out its heart and eat it in front of the wildly cheering crowd as the other gladiators let go and what was left of its body finally crumpled to the ground, ready to be fed to the livestock. Even more amazing, the slave could actually feel itself being eaten. The pain was extraordinary, but so was the excitement. The slave understood, at a much deeper level, how appropriate it was to be a slave, and that its ultimate fate was the best use of its otherwise worthless flesh.

As the slave watched the soldier finish his task by cutting off its head and holding that, too, for the crowd to enjoy, it was sexually aroused by the feel of the axe through its throat, and reached a kind of climax as the soldier fucked the severed head through its neck. That’s when it realized that it was somehow whole again – complete with a cock that was spurting cum. As it watched the pieces of its body being dragged off the field to make room for the next victim, the sight brought it to orgasm yet again – a level of intense orgasm it had never achieved before. And as it watched its massive load of sperm literally shoot from its body, the slave realized it was not alone.

The slave was horrified. It had reached orgasm without permission, which it knew was wrong. It turned to look at the person who spoke, and immediately got on its knees, knowing that this was truly a master deserving of obedience. The voice belonged to the most beautiful male the slave had ever seen. Naked and ageless, he was perfect in every sense, including his massive, erect cock that the slave desperately wanted to service. As the slave contemplated the perfection of the being it now worshiped, it realized even more its own imperfections and how unworthy of service it was. But it also could not help but note that it had reformed, still naked, without any of the flaws its body possessed during life. It was as perfect as its unworthy body was capable of being.

“You are correct,” the voice informed the slave, reading its mind. “You are far below me, and in no way worthy of my attention. But I will grant you the honor of servicing my cock since that gives me pleasure and is so clearly your overwhelming desire. You can suck while I inform you of your fate, which is my task and right. You do not need to talk as I can read your tiny mind and discern your pathetic thoughts.”

The slave crawled on all fours over to the perfect male being, and gently used its mouth to begin massaging the giant cock. It was almost too large to fit in its mouth, but the slave was expert at this task and gratefully began its first post-death sucking assignment.

The cock erupted almost immediately and began gushing sperm down the slave’s throat. There was so much of it, and it was so thick, that the slave was concerned it would choke to death. But it quickly discovered an advantage to already being dead – it could swallow all the cum without any problem. As he continued to spew cum in an endless orgasm, the beautiful male explained things to the slave.

“You’re dead, so you can’t die again. But you can feel the pain of death again and again. That will happen whenever someone rips out your heart and eats it, since that’s how you died the first time. Once that happens, your body will reform and you will be whole and healed. But while you’re being tortured or eaten, you cannot experience death and will feel the pain of every stroke and every bite. Your potential to suffer is infinite and there is no limit to the amount of pain you can feel, or to what can be done to you without allowing you any relief from the pain. This will be your state for all eternity.

“But you have been given a gift. You, like me, can keep your cock hard at all times and you can achieve ongoing orgasms with no limit to the amount of cum you shoot – like I’m doing now in your mouth.

“I am Satan, ruler of the underworld, and I have claimed you as one of my eternal victims. You have been a sex slave your whole life, and you were very obedient. But do you think a piece of slave meat like you belongs in heaven? A worthless sack of shit like you belongs in hell where you can be tortured and eaten for eternity, serving Me and my demons.”

The slave considered the comments as it continued to swallow Satan’s amazing sperm, its own cock now rock-hard and ready to erupt. It touched its own cock to test the statement about being able to cum endlessly, and to its amazement it quickly reached orgasm and began pumping its own sperm. It did this before it realized it hadn’t gotten permission, and that helped it respond.

“I am a sex slave, and can see myself as a meat slave, sir. I really don’t think I deserve to be in heaven. I guess I belong in hell.” It spoke no words, since it was still swallowing what had now turned into a gusher of piss, but the speaker read its mind.

“So do I,” the voice agreed. And with that, he reached down toward the slave’s chest, and was able to push his hand into the chest cavity and tear out the slave’s heart. The slave could feel the incredible pain once again, and watched as its heart was thrown toward a massive fire the slave noticed for the first time.

“One of My demons will eat your heart when it lands in hell, and you will reform there. And that is where you will stay for eternity.”

And so it had begun. After its heart was eaten that first time, the slave reformed in hell as predicted and was examined by a vicious demon who took great pleasure in ripping off parts of the slave as it was examined and its parts inventoried, then eating them. The slave had indeed felt the pain of every tear in its flesh, muscle, and bones, and it was reconstituted again after the demon enjoyed eating its heart for the second time. But the demons were also incredible examples of male perfection, and they sexually excited the slave immensely. It felt honored to be consumed by them, and it achieved its ongoing orgasm even while it was being dismembered. This, in turn, further amused the demons, who loved drinking human sperm while torturing its source.

The slave quickly learned that demons prefer their meat burned and charred, and they especially liked to overcook it on a bar-be-cue. Their favorite was what had been done to it on this particular day, with a long, heated, iron spit rammed into its anus until it protruded from its mouth. With its hands and feet also tied to the spit, it could be roasted both inside and out, producing charred meat that they greedily ripped off to enjoy. The fact the meat was live even after being separated from the body, and the fact the slave could still feel the pain as it was eaten, was essential to their pleasure. The slave even learned to amuse them further by achieving orgasm while it turned slowly over the flames, its sperm causing the coals to flare up and burn its skin a bit more intensely. As it slowly turned, the slave focused on trying to get as many flare-ups as possible, since it obviously added to the pleasure of its tormentors. This made it a favorite meal, and that in turn meant it was roasted more often than most of the other humans available to the demons.

True, the slave also responded quite nicely to the torture sessions, which included rape with everything from huge, multiple demon cocks stuffed into its butt for simultaneous gang-fucks, to dynamite exploded in its asshole. These sessions would last for many hours, or even days, between cooking events, and the demons prided themselves on their creativity. Crucifixion of the humans in hell was routine, and since the sufferers wouldn’t die it was particularly effective at administering extreme agony over a long period of time. The slave was included in those rotations as well, sometimes having its body nailed up in the middle of the vast desert-like setting for months on end, burned by the heat while trying desperately to breath. And while the slave was not considered muscular enough to participate in the vicious gladiatorial contests, its great good looks made it a frequent target for events like archery and axe-throwing. The greatest honor, however, was to be permitted to suck the giant cocks of the demons, drinking their gushing loads of sperm and urine that would have chocked the slaves to death in their prior existence. Now it was something to look forward to, as it so clearly gave pleasure to their masters while degrading themselves.

What was strange was how none of this depressed or even bothered the slave. It knew this was its intended purpose, and that it belonged in this place of torture and depravity. Its cock was hard at all times in part because it was so sexually turned on by what was being done to it, by the extraordinary male bodies the demons chose to present themselves with to their victims, and especially by the knowledge that its degradation gave pleasure to its masters. As a slave, what better purpose could it serve?

The daily cooking was nearing completion, and the slave realized its body was now appropriately charred and burned, ready to be eaten. It was soon removed from the coals, and the spit was placed near a table where the demons could easily reach it without burning themselves. The slave felt every bite and tear as its flesh was ripped from its body, and even felt the pain as each piece of meat was chewed and swallowed. The greatest pain occurred when one of the senior demons pulled off its genitals, slowly munching on its burnt manhood as it idly tortured yet another doomed soul tied to a whipping post nearby. It would be a while before one of the masters consumed its heart, causing it to reform, but there was plenty of time. After all, there was eternity.

Peter and Michael had just finished a great 69 session, erupting into each other’s eager mouths with intense mutual orgasms. This was one of their favorite activities, and they made sure to start all their meetings with a long sexual exploration of their amazing bodies. When they finished coming, Peter asked a question:

“I don’t understand why you don’t retrieve that Roman slave you allowed Satan to claim all those centuries ago? I don’t see how he ever did anything wrong, and even if he did it sure seems he’s suffered enough. Look at him – being spit-roasted and eaten yet again. I wasn’t here yet when he was processed, so maybe there’s something I’m missing.”

Michael laughed. “There is indeed, my well-endowed friend. This slave is one of the perverts He likes to make from time to time, who is truly happy only if suffering horribly and serving in a completely humiliating role. Like many of them, this one revels at being eaten. So I didn’t really sentence him to hell. And I gave him the gift of continuous orgasm. Being a meat slave is, for him, the equivalent of the highest level of heaven. He’s completely content and will remain that way forever.”

Peter understood, and watched as the demons down below finished their latest meal. It was a pretty good show, and Peter no longer felt guilty enjoying watching it.

I wrote this story about 10 years ago, when there were other possible election results, but somehow part of it seems relevant again. So with apologies to my more conservative friends, I hope folk enjoy it.

I should probably also admit that the “Matt” in the story is my fantasy for me. I try to stay naked as much as possible, and feel it would be entirely appropriate if I were enslaved, tortured, and snuffed. So if you have story ideas on how that might happen, let me know.

Matt stood at the bus stop and waited somewhat anxiously for the next bus downtown to the industrial district. Buses didn’t run very regularly anymore, so he wasn’t sure when it would arrive. He was apprehensive and optimistic about the day, and it was important that he made his appointment. He was also self-conscious, and hoped there wouldn’t be very many other people who would arrive and stare at him. That was an aspect of his status he particularly hated.

At least it was a warm day, so Matt wasn’t shivering. People sometimes misunderstood that reaction, and thought it was a sign of fear. Matt wasn’t afraid. When the weather was colder his body simply reacted to the cold. That’s what happens when you’re legally required to be completely naked at all times. Being also required to maintain an erection whenever possible added to the self-consciousness, since Matt was actually somewhat shy and nearly everyone would point at his manhood when they saw him, making comments or just laughing. But he stroked himself to keep his cock hard, knowing there would likely be someone who would show up at the bus stop and he’d risk trouble if he was not displaying an erect cock for public viewing. His shyness made it a little more difficult, but being 23 meant his sexual energies helped him comply with the law. He did enjoy playing with himself, and was actually kind of proud of the size of his cock as well as his exceptional level of fitness and good looks.

Matt remembered when the buses ran very regularly, and there was a strong transit system. Tampa had been much more vibrant then, with lots of public services and real tolerance for diversity. Of course, all that had changed with the election of President Palin in 2012 and the complete takeover of Congress and the State of Florida by the religious right. Public services like mass transit had been massively cut back. There were no protests any more, and unions had been abolished so no one protested either the lack of transportation or the newly oppressive working conditions. The huge corporations that bankrolled the new government could do whatever they liked with employees, all in the name of keeping jobs in the USA. With 90% pay cuts, longer hours, no benefits, and no safety rules, there were enough jobs, but they were pretty awful. Mat had originally enjoyed his job as a quality expert, testing new software, but it was no longer any fun at all and it was clear the new owners of the company didn’t really care much about quality.

Matt heard some people behind him approaching the bus stop. He didn’t turn around, and as he stroked himself to be sure he stayed hard he hoped there would not be any problems. He did look over his shoulder to see who it was. It turned out to be an old woman with her grandson. They also looked somewhat poor given their shabby clothes, so maybe they would even be sympathetic. But that was not to be.

“Look, Todd,” the old lady said. “Can you read the words branded on the back of the live meat?”

The boy was about seven, and apparently not much of a reader. That wasn’t surprising, since schools were now all private and if you couldn’t pay for an education you didn’t get much. The boy struggled to read as his grandmother had instructed him. He realized he’d seen the phrase before, and it was certainly large enough on Matt’s naked back to be discernable. Matt remembered how painful it had been when he was dragged to the front of the assembly near the end of his senior year in high school, stripped naked, and tied to a large frame while the huge, red-hot branding iron was applied to his flesh, burning in his status for all to see. The cheering and laughter in the auditorium had been almost as painful as the seared flesh, since so many of the students had once been his friends. The President had only been in office eight years at that point, and there had been some hope among those who opposed the administration. But it was still too dangerous not to join in when there was a public event. Names were taken of those who didn’t, and retaliation was severe.

“I know this one,” the boy exclaimed, bringing Matt back from his memories to his place at the bus stop. I’ve seen it on TV, when the First Dude displays the meat he’s going to hunt on his show. You know, “Hunting and Cooking with the First Family.” It was branded on the back of the animal he hunted last night and it says “Fag Sinner.” It was a really a great show last night. He nailed the guy with an arrow right through his heart, and he started skinning the meat even before the guy was completely dead. The First Dude explained that since the guy was going to hell anyway, it was useful for people to see him suffer a little more so others would learn from it. But I don’t know what the words mean. Will this guy get killed by the First Dude too? That would be fun to watch.”

Matt listened to the kid jabber on, knowing that he was probably turning red with embarrassment. But he knew enough to just stand there and not to say anything.

“Very good, Todd,” the old lady complemented her grandson – who was obviously named after the President’s husband, as were so many boys these days. “That was a very good show, and it was generous of the President to share one of her recipies for cooking human meat. They are such a generous couple, and it was such a positive family scene watching them eat the fellow who had been shot. Next week I understand they are going to feature some techniques for eating a slave while it’s still alive, which should be even more fun.”

“But won’t the First Dude get to shoot one? That’s the best part of the show, watching the guy squirm and listening to him scream, and then watching the First Dude cut up the meat for the President to cook.” The young boy was afraid his entertainment wouldn’t be complete.

“Don’t worry, Todd,” his grandmother laughed. “Your namesake always finishes his hunting, and gets his kill. Maybe they’ll just carve up another live slave for the recipes once he finishes hunting. In fact, I think he’s going to use an AK-47 for this week’s kill, so maybe they’re just taking into account the fact the body will be ripped to shreds by the weapon. I think you’ll enjoy watching that, and it will help promote sales of those kinds of guns. After all, there are lots of meat slaves to dispose of.” This assured the boy.

“But what does “Fag Sinner” mean?” the boy asked. At this point the tone of the grandmother’s voice changed, and she addressed Matt.

“Hey fag, turn around and explain to my grandson what you are and why you’ve been branded and required to go around naked with your penis hanging out.” It was not a request, and Matt knew there would be trouble if he didn’t comply immediately and with the appropriate respect. He turned to the grandmother and her grandson, and realized that a third person had now joined the group, a tough looking but handsome young man in his thirties, who was wearing the uniform of the Jesus Police. Matt was now more nervous than ever. He had to be very careful.

“Of course, ma’am,” Matt began respectfully, careful to keep any sarcasm out of his voice. “I am a homosexual, which is another word for fag. That is a sin against the law of the Old Testament, and therefore against the law of the United States now that the Old Testament is officially the law of America. So I am also a sinner, condemned to go to hell when I die. As a lesson to others, I have been branded for what I am and required to display myself as an object lesson for people like your grandson. It is a kindness greater than I deserve to allow me to be of some use beyond what I can contribute in my role as a slave worker at the local Halliburton factory and in my eventual role as meat. I am displayed at churches on Sundays and whipped during the service, again as an object lesson. Also, since the Old Testament permits slavery, and that overrides the prior constitution under the rulings of the Supreme Court, I am reduced to the status of slave and am actually the property of Halliburton. They have decided to cut costs, so I will no longer live in an apartment with other slaves. I will now live and work at the factory until they decide I am of no further use and sell me to one of the meat packing plants. This is all as it should be, and I look forward to that day so I can make a final contribution to the society I have stained by my existence. Once I am cut up and eaten, my soul will of course reside in hell, which is what I deserve.”

The grandmother looked satisfied, but the JP trouper wasn’t. “Nice try, fag, but it’s not good enough. You forgot to explain why your cock is required to be hard, and for that matter you’ve let it pretty much shrivel up.” He turned toward the boy.

“What the fag meat left out is that he has to keep himself sexually aroused at all times, which means his penis gets large and sticks out. You’ll learn all about that someday, although thankfully it’s not permitted to be discussed in school any more. But this is done to shame him, and to highlight his sin. Remember, the Supreme Court ruled that the original intention of the Founding Fathers was to follow the Old Testament, and therefore all those silly amendments that created rights, eliminated slavery, and limited the number of terms of the President were not valid. So we finally have the rule of Law the way it was intended, and the President has agreed to serve for life, the way King David did.” That was far more than the boy could understand, but the JP was proud of himself for the history lesson he had delivered.

Meanwhile, Matt quickly began stroking himself, but with the stress of the scene he was having trouble getting hard again. There was no way he could fake a hard-on while being naked. Events were not going well for him, and this had been a day he was really looking forward to.

“OK, fag. Up against the bus stop. You know the rules and the position.”

Matt did as instructed, leaning against the bus stop and clutching the two rings that were fastened near the top of the small structure, which caused his arms to be spread out above his head. The JP quickly used handcuffs to assure that his wrists were held firm to the two rings, and then kicked Matt’s feet apart to better position him. Matt’s exposed backside was now spread-eagled and positioned for receiving punishment. The JP took a whip out of his belt (one of the standard pieces of equipment JP troupers carried) and began vigorously lacerating Matt’s back and butt. Stroke after stroke hit its mark while the grandmother and her son watched, with the boy counting the strokes and giggling. It was not long before Matt was bleeding from numerous welts. After each stroke, as required, Matt thanked the JP for the punishment and requested another stroke since Matt was a sinner. The trouper obliged for quite some time, but eventually grew a little tired.

“That’s all you get, fag. You deserve a whole lot more, of course, and it would be the right thing to do for me to whip you to death. But I don’t have time for that, and you are probably useful to your owners for a while. But I sure would like to cut you up for a little mid-morning protein.”

The JP took out a small scanner, like a TV remote control, and proceeded to scan Matt’s bleeding ass. The device beeped and the JP read what it said.

“What makes you think you have permission to be on the streets, anyway?” the JP asked. The chip embedded in your butt says you do indeed belong to Halliburton, but it shows you’re supposed to be at work. Not only that, the psychological profile says you’re a suicide risk and you’re part of some sort of experimental group of slaves. Explain yourself.”

Matt was now extremely nervous. He knew how vulnerable he was in every way. The JP was perfectly entitled to arrest him, and might even get a reward from his owner for nabbing a stray slave.

“I am on my way to work now, sir,” Matt responded. “I was required to clean out my former apartment and assist in the sale of my possessions before heading into work. I will now be kept in my cubicle except for any permitted exercise periods, which will allow my owner to get more productivity from me and prevent me from any ability to kill myself before I am sold for meat. As part of the experiment to increase productivity I will have a pail for my waste, and my dog dish will be filled to the extent my owner determines I am worth feeding. This will increase profits for my owner, which is the American way.” Most of that was true, but Matt was holding back some key information. He was extremely worried that the JP would apply a lie detector. If so, he was really doomed.

Fortunately for Matt, the bus the grandmother and son were waiting for arrived at this point, and they departed. That left him alone with the JP trouper, who had a better idea than arresting Matt. He released Matt from the restraints, and told him to kneel in front of him and suck his cock. Matt observed that the guy had gotten a pretty good hard-on while whipping him, which was apparent through his tight uniform. Matt quickly obliged as the policeman unzipped his pants and thrust the aroused cock into Matt’s mouth. Matt was indeed gay, and pretty expert at sucking cock, so this was no problem. Indeed, Matt’s own cock quickly regained its required status.

“My girlfriend is mad at me, so I didn’t get any sex this morning,” the JP trouper explained, needing to make it clear he wasn’t gay. “So you’ll have to do for now.” Matt was used to JP types who pretended they weren’t gay, and was smart enough to ignore the fraud. He sucked expertly and even eagerly (the guy was pretty good looking, and the cock pretty large), bringing him close to orgasm. But then the JP ordered Matt to let go and to present his butt so he could shoot his load up Matt’s fag asshole. Matt of course obliged, feeling the large cock being roughly inserted and concerned he might shoot his own load as the guy thrust in and out. This was clearly not the first time this JP had fucked another guy, and he was obviously enjoying it. He came quickly, and Matt was able to restrain himself. After that, Matt also obliged by using his mouth to clean the guy’s cock and then to swallow a large load of piss sent down Matt’s throat.

Matt was extremely relieved. He knew that the JP would not now arrest him, since there was cum inside Matt that could be traced back to the JP. And the lie detector test Matt would surely receive upon being arrested would reveal this transgression, which might even get the guy exposed as a fellow fag. There were tests for that too, and in fact that is how Matt had been exposed.

“OK, fag. You can go when your bus comes. You’ve got a nice tight ass, so if I get cut off again maybe I’ll track you down. Or maybe I can get permission to cut you up for snacks. Either way, you better hope we don’t meet again.”

The JP trouper left, and to Matt’s relief his bus arrived shortly thereafter. It wasn’t the bus to the factory where he worked, but there was no one at the bus stop to observe that fact.

Of course, being naked and without possessions of any type, Matt had no way to pay for the fare. That was handled by the bar code branded on Matt’s arm, which would result in a small charge to Halliburton. This was one area where things had gotten more efficient. The large corporations knew how to process and control their slaves. As a slave, Matt wasn’t permitted to sit down, of course, and he stood at the front of the bus displaying his excited cock for the amusement of the other riders. Several also commented on the welts still shining on his backside, and he was obliged to explain that he had been (as appropriate) whipped by a member of the JP. The other riders, of course, fully approved and one guy amused himself by hitting Matt in the balls and then in the belly, which also was well received by the other riders. Matt was grateful the beating wasn’t so severe it would cause him to throw up (as many of them did), since he then would have been required to lick up his vomit and that would risk him missing his stop. So it was a good bus ride, all things considered. Maybe the day would be OK after all.

Matt got off at a dodgy part of town where even the JP were cautious and wouldn’t show up except with overwhelming numbers. This was the really bad part of town.

The contact from the underground had given Matt very explicit directions on which streets to walk as he headed to the unmarked warehouse. “Trust me, there are worse ways to die if you stray from the safe route,” the guy had stressed. Even though Matt’s goal today was to get himself killed, he knew the kinds of people who occupied this part of town had some far too entertaining ideas on how to make that happen. He had arranged what he hoped would be a relatively quick death, with his body then turned over to one of the meat plants for dog food. It was the only way he saw to escape his latest fate. Being chained in his cubicle for two years without any relief was more than he could endure. It had been bad enough already, working 12 hour days seven days a week, being hauled in front of churches for ridicule and torture, being laughed at whenever he was in public, and (most of all) being deprived of sex with other guys. He would get relief when he turned 25, since that was the age at which slaves were processed for meat to make sure the meat was nice and tasty, but he knew even then that he ran a high risk of being processed as live meat – sold to a restaurant to be eaten alive. There was no other reason they would keep him fit, and he was well aware that he was unusually handsome and therefore of greater value in the restaurant market than as just a used-up slave to be slaughtered and butchered. Those were the lucky ones. Matt desperately needed an end to all this, and he had encountered another guy who told him that there was a group in this part of town that would be willing to accommodate him.

“You’ll get tortured first, and raped and such. They pretend to be straight, but they’re all actually gay guys who are into extreme S&M. But the tortures usually last only a couple of hours, and it’s a whole lot better than what awaits you otherwise. If you cooperate it will go quicker, and a lot of gay guys manage to get off big time during the sessions, which pleases the gang and encourages them to let you die sooner. Then they cook up the good parts of your body, enjoy lunch, and sell the rest to a nearby pet food factory. It’s a pretty straightforward process.”

Matt thought about it, nervous about the torture session, but concluded this was the best available option for him. He agreed, and got directions and a time to meet the “gang” who would be generous enough to torture, rape, and snuff him. As he walked toward the warehouse and thought about his fate, he actually got a bit more aroused, even dripping a little pre-cum. He had been into S&M, and that part kind of turned him on.

Matt saw the sign the guy had described, which read “live meat deliveries.” He knew what it meant, and knocked on the door. When it was opened, he was horrified to see the same JP trouper who had whipped and raped him just an hour or so earlier. Matt didn’t know what to say and just stood there staring.

“Hi, fag, remember me?” the JP sneered. “I’m your worst nightmare. I know what you’re after, and I’m going to make sure you don’t get to die yet. But you do get tortured.”

With that, the JP grabbed Matt and pulled him into the hallway, and then forced him into a large room where about ten JP troupers had gathered. There was a naked young male tied to a post in the middle of the room, and it was obvious that they were enjoying torturing him. All the gang wore their JP berets but most were otherwise naked themselves, their large cocks fully aroused and their bodies glistening with sweat from the effort of whipping, beating, fucking, and otherwise abusing their victim. The guy’s back was so covered in welts from whipping that the “fag sinner” brand was hardly readable. His screams were not very audible, and Matt suspected that was because he had lost his voice from the audible entertainment he had already supplied to his torturers.

“Hey guys, here’s the one I was telling you about,” the JP announced to the group, who all stopped what they were doing (mostly either beating the victim or sucking each other off) and stared at Matt. “We don’t get to snuff this one, but we can play with him for a while before we return him to his owners. He’s part of an experiment and they want to see how it plays out.”

The gang was delighted with the fresh handsome meat, even if it wasn’t going to be another snuff party. After all, it was clear the guy they had been working over was pretty close to dead, and he had enough meat for a great meal for the entire group. Matt was just an added benefit to their fun.

The JP laughed at Matt, who was completely confused and terrified. “Here’s the deal, fag. Halliburton wants more productivity from its slave workers, and someone figured having you guys work and live in your cubicles would be a way to do it. That way you only stop working when you require sleep, or maybe some exercise. You can work through feedings and you can piss and shit in a pail in your cubicle that can be emptied by another slave every few days when it’s full. But the problem is suicide. The psychological tests show you ungrateful shitheads will try to kill yourselves, and that reduces productivity and throws off the schedule for when you’re sold for meat.

“The slave resources department decided to do some experiments, and you’re part of one of them. They wanted to see if you’d try to get yourself snuffed, and sure enough they were right. But it won’t work, and now they’ll watch you even more closely. We’ve been tracking you all day. Also, you’ll now be in the experiment to figure out how much pain a slave can endure, and how that affects productivity. That experiment will last the full two years until you’re sold for meat. So you get to be sort of useful after all.

“But don’t worry. The torture part that my buddy told you about is correct. We get to do that before we turn you back over to your owners. And we get a bonus. We just don’t get to kill you.”

Matt was quickly tied to a fuck-horse and the gang wasted no time enjoying a vigorous gangbang at his expense. The JP from the bus stop took another turn, bragging about his prowess. They made sure Matt watched as they finally finished off the original victim, tying him on his back to a large table by his wrists and ankles, and then tossing dice to see who got the first bites. They didn’t bother to cook the guy, since that would kill him too quickly, and they simply cut off parts and ate him raw and alive. They expressed disappointment that he was too hoarse from his earlier screams to provide a sound track for their lunch, but on the other hand there was no objection when one of the guys cut out the tongue, a favorite delicacy of that JP trouper. The major contest, of course, was to see who got to cut off the cock and the balls, which were removed separately and slowly so three of the gang could enjoy the fun of cutting and eating while the rest cheered them on. The victim didn’t actually last all that long after that, since the gang was hungry and not very careful where they cut. Matt saw the relief in his face as he finally was able to die. Matt envied him greatly.

Matt’s own fate was even worse than he feared. After lunch the gang was horny again, so there was another gang rape. Then they tied him up and whipped him to the point there was almost no part of his body that wasn’t cut. He doubted his own branding was legible any more, and could see the welts on his chest and belly. Even the bar code on his arm that identified him was scarred, but he realized there would be no more bus rides.

“Anyone want desert?” the leader of the group asked jokingly. When everyone laughed and answered in the affirmative, Matt was tied to the same table as the prior victim. He had a slight hope that maybe they would get carried away and snuff him, but that was not the case. Instead, they once again rolled dice to see who the three winners would be. The JP who had “managed” Matt explained to him that his owners were appreciative of the gang’s efforts and wanted to reward them. Since Matt wouldn’t have any use for his cock and balls, they were being donated to the gang as a thank-you gift. Now, when Matt was displayed on Sundays (which he assured Matt would still happen), the congregation would have another reason to laugh at him. And Matt would not be able to engage in any more actual sinning, so this was really a favor to him.

The pain from having his cock slowly cut off, and then his ball sack sliced open so that each testicle could be removed, was beyond anything Matt could imagine. He could not help but watch as his manhood was slowly eaten in front of him by the winning gang members, and he passed out as they sewed him up to make sure he didn’t bleed to death.

Matt was returned to the factory, and a collar was attached around his neck that allowed easy administration of electricity to his exposed body. When the scars from his scourging finally healed, he was re-branded with “fag sinner” so that it would remain prominent. If his productivity slowed down, the collar would be activated and he would feel intense pain, which in due course converted him into the Pavlovian dog that his owners desired. The few hours of sleep each day were his only relief, and of course that did not come with the usual pleasure of masturbation that had been his only solace before the experiment began. Since restaurants didn’t buy eunuchs, there was no point keeping him all that fit, so the daily exercise was minimal. Being displayed on Sunday was the worst, as he was now not only laughed at for being a branded eunuch and then whipped but, to show the nature of his sin, he was now also sodomized with whatever happened to be available in the church, or brought in by enthusiastic members of the congregation. At one time that might have carried at least a little pleasure, but without his manhood and his man-seeds there was only pain and humiliation.

The Halliburton slave resources group ultimately declared the experiment a great success, pointing to the increased productivity from test subjects like Matt. In fact, they even won a presidential award for improving US efficiency. Matt was hauled out in front of the cameras as an example, his body no longer fit and, like his spirit, completely broken. The reporter from Fox News, the only remaining news channel, made it a point to focus on the gap where Matt’s cock and balls had once been proudly displayed. But at least he was 25 then, and figured that things would be over at long last when he was sold for meat. But, to his ultimate despair, Matt heard the reporter state that the experiment was so successful they had decided to keep the slaves alive for an added 5 years. After all, the meat would still be eatable, and the productivity over that time would be highly profitable.

Matt was led back to the cubicle that was his world and his prison. That day at the bus stop had not turned out well at all.

A few years ago I posted a story with this theme on Zambianmeat.com, and several guys requested a sequel. M3Mayhen was kind enough to let me post it here a few weeks ago as well, and I also got some positive feedback. One reader suggested maybe celebrating the host’s retirement show. I thought that was a good idea, so here’s the result. Let me know if you have thoughts or other suggestions. My aim is to write stuff guys can get off on who enjoy snuff and torture themes, I do fantasizing myself as the willing victim. I’m always appreciative of feedback – positive or not.

The opening credits began to run for a special episode of the hit series Thrill Kill Live! The show was celebrating ten years at the top of every rating, whether traditional TV or internet. It was the ultimate cash cow for the Fox network, and its creator and host, Kevin Strand, was a major celebrity. But after ten years of hosting, Kevin had announced his intention to retire, and the network had heavily promoted this final episode under Kevin’s leadership, including the promised introduction of an as yet unnamed new host. Viewership was massive, the studio was packed, and everyone had great anticipation for a terrific presentation. Kevin’s simple formula of interviewing, torturing, killing, and ultimately selling the meat of good-looking young male losers, all on live TV, was a proven hit. Clearly, the show would continue. It was the ideal combination of entertainment and public service.

The stage was set to feature a large wrestling mat, and as soon as the credits finished two extremely athletic males walked onto the stage. They appeared even younger than their 17 years, but were exceptionally muscular and attractive. Each was naked, and each sported a decent-sized erection. They walked to the two sides of the mat and stood still, facing each other. Both looked very serious as they stared at each other, ignoring the audience.

Once the young males were in place the announcer began his usual introduction: “Welcome everyone! It’s that time of the week, and it’s another exciting show. But this one is even more amazing than usual, a two hour episode to celebrate ten years of Kevin’s great creativity and leadership and to introduce our new host for the next ten years. So, with no further ado, HERE’S KEVIN!”

The audience went nuts as Kevin walked on stage. While he usually started the show wearing one of the expensive leather outfits he loved, which were made from the skin of some of the show’s “participants,” this time he was completely naked. Kevin was 31 years old, having dreamed up and started the show when he turned 21, but his body looked much younger. He kept himself fanatically fit, and had the benefit of an extraordinary body to work with. It was no wonder he was so popular, and he had used his popularity, and the show, to become very rich. The line of clothing made from the skin of young males he’d killed was just one of many cross promotions, and the meat sold after the show each week went for a huge premium. Moreover, he had started related enterprises to increase his source of meat, with local contests designed to promote the show and also provide lots more young male “participants” whose bodies could be butchered and sold after their 15 minutes of fame (and their worthless lives) were over. It was profitable local entertainment that served the moral good of reducing the population of these young troublemakers. That’s why he had decided to retire, so he could focus more time on the ever-changing cadre of young male volunteers, prisoners, and slaves he owned and loved to torture, kill, and turn into a useful combination of meat and other byproducts. His plan was to continue those highly profitable and worthwhile endeavors, but he had grown tired of the public spotlight. It was practically impossible for him to even go to a restaurant without some depressed, cowardly, male asshole asking Kevin to kill him on the spot or to be selected for the show. While Kevin enjoyed turning losers into meat, and always obliged the requests (with a knife thrust into the gut, since that would be quite painful, relatively slow, but always fatal), it was very intrusive of his privacy and got in the way of his own priorities.

“Welcome everyone,” Kevin began, “and I hope you all enjoy this very special show. As you know, I have sold my rights to the show and I am turning over the hosting duties to someone else. You will meet him shortly – and so will I. My producer, Robert Gray, and I thought it would be more fun to keep everyone in suspense as to the identity of the new host, even including me. So we’ll all be surprised to learn who the new host turns out to be, and to watch as he and I work over whoever tonight’s main attraction turns out to be – that’s also a surprise.

“But let’s start out with an extended version of our usual opening set, and this one is really special. My guests are Tony and Mike, and they are both 17 years old. Many of you have asked for younger meat, and we’re here to meet your desires! But what’s really exciting is that we have combined with our colleagues at Fox Sports to provide a combination event. You see, Tony and Mike are high school wrestling champions, and had been set to compete for the state championship even though they are only juniors in high school. These are really talented athletes, and they are very aggressive. Better yet, they have grown up in the same schools and they have come to hate each other. So my friends on the sports side came up with a terrific suggestion. Instead of the usual boring high school wrestling contest, why not feature them as our opening act, letting them fight to the death, with the winner fucking the dead body of the loser and getting to eat his cock? We paid their parents a little money and got their permission, and the proceeds from this part of the show will help their high school build a much-needed new gym. Each of the boys expects to win, and given their intense hatred for each other they were both immediately on board with the proposal. It was an “everybody wins” idea that just makes too much sense not to pursue. OK, maybe not everybody wins. We’ll have a dead body here pretty soon that we will butcher and sell for meat, but by definition the dead kid will have been a loser and his body will be better used as meat snacks for our audience and maybe some leather boots.”

Kevin turned to the two boys, who were still glaring at each other, and stroking their cocks to keep them aroused. Besides being exceptional young athletes, they were also exhibitionists who loved showing off their beautiful young bodies. In fact, they had often persuaded the principal to let them wrestle nude during the regular season, and that was always approved once they agreed to suck him off and let him fuck their cute young assholes.

“OK guys, let’s start by getting a little more info on you. I understand you really dislike each other, and wonder why. Tony, let’s start with your side of the story. What’s you beef with Mike?”

‘Mike ruined my relationship with my boyfriend Larry. Larry is 19 and wants to be with me, so I can serve him, but Mike turned Larry in for fucking a minor and now Larry has to stay away from me or get arrested. Mike is just jealous, since Larry prefers fucking me over fucking Mike, and I want vengeance.”

Kevin next handed the microphone to Mike. “That’s bullshit. If Larry had any taste in guys he’s prefer making out with me over Tony. I know he really enjoyed himself when I let him fuck my ass and drink his cum. But Larry is just an egotistical college kid who likes to throw his weight around and take advantage of his status. I don’t give a shit about him or Tony, and once I finish killing Tony in this match I think I’ll figure out a way to capture and torture Larry to death just for fun. And I’ll eat his cock too.”

“Wow,” observed Kevin. “You two have a great grudge going, and I have no doubt you’ll finish it tonight. So let’s get at it.

“You know the rules. You have to stay on the mat, and if you step off it I get to whip you until you get back on. There is no referee, and there are no limits on what you can do to each other while you fight. The match ends when one of you is dead. But to be victorious, the winner ahs to fuck the loser, sending a load of cum up the ass of the carcass. The winner also has to chew the cock off the dead loser and swallow it. We know both of you are gay, so I doubt those requirements will be much of a problem. And we’ve pumped a lot of Viagra into your oversexed bodies, so you will likely keep those hard-ons during most of the match. We think that will make it more fun to watch, and we hope you try to rip them off. If the survivor has lost his cock during the match he won’t be able to fuck the dead meat, so he’ll die too. Our rules are strict. Finally, we want you each to drink the bottle of water on the table near you. When one of you dies, we want to watch the animal piss all over himself. Our viewer surveys tell us that’s really a popular feature of the show.

“So, do you understand the rules?” Both boys nodded, not saying anything. Kevin then signaled for them to drain the bottles of water, which they quickly did, and then directed them to the center of the mat. There was no shaking hands, or other civilities. At Kevin’s signal, the two naked young animals went after each other with a ferocity that surprised even Kevin and that delighted the audience. They especially tried to get to each other’s cocks, which obediently protruded in front of each boy and presented a great target. While neither was able to rip off the other guy’s cock, they each landed very effective blows to the genitals, which resulted in loud cheers from the audience. Bets had been placed both in the studio and at home, so the audience cared who own. And, of course, that meant more money for the show and for the network.

It quickly became clear the two boys were very evenly matched. As they wrestled, first one and then the other would be pinned on the mat, but then he would quickly recover and the fight would continue. Of course, pinning didn’t matter – there was only one scoring criterion. Also, the boys realized the mat was not quite as large as the usual wrestling area, so they sometimes landed off its edge. That added to the fun, as Kevin was very athletic himself and able to use his whip to inflict some pain on the errant athlete. That’s why he had decided to be naked for the match. And Kevin had selected his favorite whip, which was designed to draw blood as it lacerated its victim’s skin. Thus, as the fight preceded both boys suffered lacerations that were bleeding nicely and adding to the entertainment. The blood and sweat, in turn, made the mat more slippery and meant they were more likely to slide off, again adding to the fun. Their anger at each other now also included anger at Kevin, which naturally added to his personal enjoyment. He was not only sporting a somewhat harder erection, but his own beautiful naked body was sweating almost as much as the two boys.

As the fight went on, it appeared Tony began to fade a bit. Clearly, he had slipped off the mat many more times than Mike, and bore the resulting scars from the whippings. The turning point of the fight happened when he slid off the mat on his back, and an unusually brutal stroke from Kevin’s whip hit his chest squarely on his left nipple, distracting him with the pain. As Tony moved back onto the mat it gave Mike the chance he needed, and Mike was able to grab Tony’s right arm and bend it backwards to break it at the elbow. Tony screamed in pain to the delight of the audience (especially those who had bet on Mike), and a look of fear came over his face. But Mike didn’t move in for the kill just yet. He first maneuvered so that he could reach Tony’s left arm, and without the use of his right Tony was unable to stop him. Mike saw his opening and in no time had also managed to break Tony’s left arm. Tony was in severe pain and now very distracted. He was a superb wrestler, but not used to this kind of pain or the loss of the use of his arms. Mike moved in again and tripped Tony, grabbing his leg as he fell. Mike’s strength was impressive, and with a quick sidestep he was able to break the leg at the knee. Tony was now pretty much helpless, and Mike had no trouble managing to break the other leg. Tony was screaming, and begged for mercy. That was music to Mike’s ears (and Kevin’s), and Mike took a moment to spit in Tony’s face. The hatred was indeed intense, and Mike wanted to prolong Tony’s agony and humiliation.

Mike did not yet finish off his enemy. Instead, he focused on more of Tony’s limbs, and enjoyed himself breaking bones. Mike broke both wrists, yanked the arms from the shoulders to dislocate them, and particularly seemed to enjoy further breaking the legs at the knees and ankles. Mike then turned to Kevin:

“I want to make a wish and then break his legs at the crotch. Would you like to help by grabbing one leg while I grab the other?”

The result of the fight was clear, and Kevin was more than happy to oblige. So he and Mike each grabbed a leg, and Tony’s body was broken like a wishbone at Thanksgiving. But Mike wasn’t done yet.

“May I borrow your whip?” Mike asked politely, his anger at Kevin replaced by his sense of triumph. Once again, Kevin was delighted to oblige, and soon Mike was vigorously lacerating Tony’s back and butt as he lay on the mat, his body a bleeding contorted caricature of the beautiful young male he had been. Mike then turned him over so he lay on his back and then applied the whip to the chest and belly. It was a testament to Tony’s youth and fitness that he was still alive, let alone conscious. But he was, and Mike was making sure his pain and humiliation were total.

What happened next surprised even Kevin, and thrilled the audience. Mike put down the whip and knelt in front of Tony’s genitals, taking the doomed opponent’s cock into his mouth. Despite all the pain, and aided by the sex drugs, Tony began to restore his erection – as did Mike. Mike stroked his own cock, and expertly sucked off Tony. To everyone’s amazement, Tony actually produced a load of cum, which Mike allowed to shoot straight up in the air, catching and swallowing it with his well-trained tongue. Mike loved getting sucked off and sucking off other guys, and as he demonstrated he was very good at it.

But now it was time for Tony to die, and Mike once again showed some creativity. While Tony’s cock was still hard, Mike again took it into his mouth. But this time, instead of sucking it, he bit down hard at the base. As Tony emitted an inhuman scream of ultimate shame and agony, Mike bit off his cock, letting the blood that was inside it drip form his mouth while he conspicuously chewed his victim’s manhood – being sure Tony could see what has happening. As Mike finished and swallowed, his hands moved up Tony’s chest to his neck, and Mike’s strong hands choked the last remaining life from Tony’s broken body. Kevin was so excited that even his normal self-control failed him, and he shot a load over the two boys as Tony finally stopped struggling and lay dead on the mat. Mike dutifully licked up Kevin’s cum, which was his favorite liquid.

Mike had one more task to do, and he enthusiastically turned Tony’s body over so he could insert his cock into the asshole of the carcass that had once been his enemy. The body was still warm, of course, and Mike was surprised how much he enjoyed fucking someone who was dead. He made a mental note to himself to remember to fuck Larry after he killed him, and to find other occasions to do so, having no compunctions about the fact this would mean he would have to kill them first. He was, indeed, a severe and total sadist with no limits.

Once Mike had erupted into Tony’s body he looked up at Kevin in total triumph. “I believe I have won the match and done as instructed,” Mike casually stated. “I want to claim the body as part of my prize, so I can finish eating him. The cock tasted really good.”

A sly smile came across Kevin’s face. “Yes, the body of the loser was part of the deal. But unfortunately you broke the rules so you have not won.”

Mike was shocked and angry. He knew he had put on a fantastic show. And there was a mutilated, fucked dead body in front of him to prove his victory.

“You see,” Kevin continued, “the rules were to chew off the cock after Tony died, not before. You deprived us of the fun of watching him piss all over himself once he died. While I sure enjoyed watching you eat the cock while he was still alive – that was a nice touch that triggered a very satisfying orgasm for me – it broke the rules. So you lose too.”

Now Mike was not only angry, but nervous. “What do you mean?”

“The contract for the match not only allows us to make it a fight to the death, it also provides that if the winner doesn’t follow the rules we get to torture him to death also, in any way we want. You should have read the fine print.”

Mike was horrified. This was clearly not fair. “No one showed me any contract,” he literally screamed at Kevin, “so you can’t hold me to anything like that.”

“Well, you’re under age so we showed it to your principal and your parents. No one had any problem with it. After all, they get some extra money as a result.”

Mike lunged at Kevin, but he was spent and in any event no match for the larger, stronger man. Kevin handled him easily, and dragged him over to the other side of the stage. There, as was customary, stood the Wheel of Death that, like the Wheel of Fortune that inspired it, was designed to be spun to land on a random selection. But the selections here were a variety of ways for one of the show’s participants to be killed. Kevin reminded Mike how it worked, and asked if Mike wanted to spin it. Mike was still stunned, and didn’t respond. So Kevin spun it for him, enjoying not only the amusement of how the young boy had been tricked, but also the knowledge that this gorgeous hunk of meat would soon be his to torture, kill, and enjoy. Mike’s anger would make it just that much more fun.

The wheel spun for a while, building suspense as it was designed to do. But it soon stopped, and to Kevin’s delight it had landed on “skinned alive.” That was probably Kevin’s favorite way to torture and kill an animal, and it would also mean there would be a great source of new leather for one of Kevin’s popular outfits. He loved wearing leather that was made from the skin of his victims, and this would be a special jacket since it would be from his final session as host of the show. Best of all, Mike’s skin was extremely smooth, as befit his 17-year old youth, and it would make an especially nice piece of clothing.

It took very little time for the stage crew to set up the stage for the skinning, but Kevin wanted a little fun with Mike first. There was a sawhorse-style fuck bench already nearby, and Kevin forced Mike onto it, tying his hands and ankles so Mike couldn’t resist and his terrific young ass was presented to Kevin for Kevin’s pleasure. After all, the show had been on for nearly 20 minutes and Kevin had only shot one load of cum. He needed some release, and Mike was the perfect target. Kevin took his time, as the audience watched and enjoyed the show, thrusting slowly and deeply for quite a while before accelerating his pace and reaching his next climax. He shot over Mike’s back so the audience could see the cum, and then he pissed all over the boy to clean off the cum and some of the sweat and blood from the fight. A member of the stage crew showed up with a hose, and finished the job of cleaning up both Mike and Kevin with warm water for Kevin, cold for Mike, so that they would look fresh for the skinning.

Kevin then took the microphone, standing in front of Mike so he could watch. “We now have another guest to introduce. You’re already heard all about him, so with no further ado, let me introduce Larry – the cause of all this bad feeling.”

Yet another Adonis walked onto the stage. His nude body was even more gorgeous than the other two, and he was as fit and impressive as anyone Kevin had ever invited on stage. While a bit older than Tony and Mike, he nonetheless had the look of a very young male with terrific sex appeal.

“Welcome to the show, Larry. As I told you, once Mike won the match it would not mean he would live through the show. We rigged the match so Tony would lose, by putting some drugs into his water bottle that he drank before the fight. And I made sure to focus my whip on him more than Mike. I’m really happy about that since now I’ll get Mike’s smooth young skin without any scars.

“We also had it rigged so that we would have an excuse to torture and kill Mike, although he made it easy for us. So, as we agreed, you would be allowed to fuck him and to administer the final torture that will result in his death. Do you still want to do that?”

Larry nodded his head, and as he surveyed Mike’s vulnerable and available flesh Larry’s cock began to harden.

“Great. The first thing I want you to fuck is his mouth. But since he has a pattern of biting off cocks, and we want yours to stay attached, let’s do a little prep. Here’s a pair of pliers. How about if you take this plastic piece to keep his mouth open, and then use the pliers to remove his teeth? It’s really fun to do, and astonishingly painful.”

As Larry eagerly agreed, to Mike’s horror, Kevin turned to the audience. “And for the benefit of the audience, I want to let you know that we’ll turn the teeth into a nice bracelet, and that will be for sale once we’re done with the festivities.” Kevin never missed a chance at a profitable promotion.

It turned out Larry had very sadistic tendencies of his own, and he took his time removing Mike’s teeth so that he could safely fuck his mouth. He slowly used the pliers on each one, and placed the tooth into a nearby tray. Mike’s pain was wonderfully obvious, and he screamed loudly. Once Larry was done with his first task, he was quick to thrust his rock hard cock into Mike’s defenseless mouth and began pumping away. Mike, however, couldn’t help himself. He loved sucking cock so much that he actually cooperated, giving Larry an excellent blow job. After all, it was Mike’s lust for Larry’s amazing body that had been the key to the grudge with Tony. Kevin had moved to stand behind Mike’s ass, and amused himself by re-inserting his cock into the boy’s butt. He watched Larry carefully, and when Larry shot his load all over Mike’s face, Kevin shot a load once again all over his back. It was another crowd pleaser.

“Nice load,” Kevin congratulated Larry. “Want to shoot one into his ass too? I don’t think he’s going to be able to object.”

Larry was of course delighted to comply, and he soon added a plentiful supply of his cum to the sperm already shining on Mike’s exposed backside. He finished by walking back in front of Mike’s face and pissing all over his face and down his throat. Larry felt very satisfied and was now really enjoying himself.

Next, Mike was led to the special table Kevin had designed for the task of skinning a victim, and by this point he was too weak and shocked to resist. The table was much like a rack, and had that added capacity, so Kevin stretched Mike, spread-eagled, on his back to the point his arms and legs were in pain. To Kevin’s delight, Mike began to beg for mercy, offering to do anything in order to avoid his fate. Kevin knew that always helped with audience enjoyment and that, in turn, improved ratings.

Kevin next put some attention to Mike’s smooth young cock, which he took in his mouth and soon got to a full, impressive erection. Mike was too young and oversexed to resist the arousal, much as Tony had been when Mike sucked him off before biting off his cock. This was another reason Kevin really liked torturing and snuffing boys in their late teens – they were like little cum-gushers he could always count on.

“Would you like to cum one last time before I skin you?” Kevin politely asked. The answer wouldn’t matter, but he thought it would be fun to ask and get the reaction.

“Please, let me go. I’ll do anything you want. This isn’t fair,” was all Mike would say.

“OK, I’ll take that as a yes,” Kevin laughed in reply. “Let me tell you how this will work. You see the skinning knife I’m holding? It is very sharp, which is important for getting a good clean separation of the skin form the meat and bone. But first, since even you won’t be able to function sexually once I start in earnest, I am going to have Larry suck you off. When you shoot, he’ll use the knife to cut off you cock and balls as a single unit. They don’t’ represent much skin, and I Larry and I will eat them in front of you. You can try not to watch, but you won’t be able to stop yourself. It’s really pretty amusing how fixated male animals like you get when forced to watch your prized manhood being eaten while you’re still alive.”

Larry was delighted with this idea, and took his time sucking off the boy, but in due course Mike shot his final load. Larry let it shoot over the smooth belly, and then licked it up for his enjoyment. He also found cum his favorite liquid. And as promised, as soon as the cock gyrated and began to shoot, Larry slowly cut away the scrotum and cock, so that by the time the cock was done shooting its load Larry was holding the manhood apparatus in his hand. He and Kevin moved to where Mike could see them better, and very slowly they proceeded to enjoy the man-seed treats, starting with each eating a part of the penis and finishing with each enjoying a freshly detached testicle. As Kevin predicted, Mike could not turn away – making for another instance of great TV.

The skinning itself was fairly routine, as Kevin had done it so many times before. He started just under Mike’s chin and cut down to where his cock had been. He slowly and expertly parted the skin, removing whole sections so that the resulting leather would be more seamless. The specially designed table lifted the body up as needed so Kevin could pull the skin from the back as well as the chest, and once he had performed similarly on the arms and legs Mike was simply a bleeding pile of meat and bone – but, thanks to Kevin’s skills, not yet dead. So Kevin was able to cut off a delicious piece of breast meat while Mike was still able to feel the pain and humiliation, and he ate that as well in front of the boy, who was once again fascinated and unable to turn away. When Kevin invited Larry to cut off another piece of boy tar-tar, however, it was too much for Mike’s system and everyone enjoyed the last convulsions of pain as Mike finally died and Larry concluded his snack and his task. The camera had covered the proceedings expertly, and now canvassed the dead body for the enjoyment of the audience.

But there was one more use for Mike before he would be butchered in order to provide expensive treats for the studio audience (as Tony already had been). Kevin adjusted the table so that there was an opening that allowed him to spread Mike’s skinless legs and approach the crotch that had once featured his young manhood. The table then raised up Mike’s legs and positioned his butt so that Kevin could reach Mike’s ass. Kevin also loved fucking his victims right after they died, while they were still warm and pliable. He was again hard as a rock, and he thrust his cock into the well-lubricated asshole for Mike’s final fucking. Kevin then invited Larry to do the same – the table had positioned the carcass ideally for a double fucking, and Kevin and Larry each pumped their cocks into the warm, moist flesh for Mike’s final humiliation. (Of course, Kevin suspected the butchers would have a little fun before they started cutting Mike up, so maybe this was just the final time Mike would be fucked in public.)

Kevin and Larry simultaneously shot their loads into Mike this time, concluding what had been an exceptional opening segment.

Once they were sexually spent, Kevin turned to Larry. “You have done really well, and I’ve enjoyed co-fucking this meat with you. You’re not only a terrific stud, but you seem to be the brightest of the three of you. So can I assume you know what happens now?”

“I can guess,” Larry replied. “Since I technically killed Mike, I suppose you have the right to torture and kill me, and since that is what this show’s all about I figure that’s what you’ll do now. I also assume you tricked me into signing something to that effect. You do that a lot, and I think anyone who comes on the show should expect it. I also recognize that once someone signs something, it’s final and binding.”

“Exactly right,” Kevin replied, impressed with the young stud. “Shall we see what the Wheel of Death decides as to how you die? Personally I can hardly wait, and while I like you I do hope it’s something very slow and painful so our audience can enjoy it.”

Larry did not resist. He walked over with Kevin, and unlike Mike he was willing to spin the wheel to determine his fate. He gave it a hard thrust, so it was a little longer before it slowed down and landed on one of the fatal options: “crucified.” The audience cheered loudly, realizing how truly long and painful that would be, but Larry did not complain.

The crew quickly showed up with a specially designed cross. It was wooden, and very traditional in most ways. But halfway down the vertical shaft was a very large dildo that pointed up at about a 45 degree angle. Kevin explained the feature to Larry. “This is actually a characteristic that dates way back to Roman times. The idea is to have the victim fucked by the dildo, which adds a nice sexual touch and makes it a little more humiliating. The Romans enjoyed mixing sex with death. But it also has the advantage of supporting the body to some extent, and that is a great advantage since it means the animal will last days longer on the cross. Instead of dying in just a few days, I’d guess that a strong, light young body like yours might make it close to a week. So we’ll start by nailing you to the cross and positioning the dildo, and then we’ll turn our cameras on you so that our web audience can watch as you struggle, suffer, and eventually die – probably the longest and most painful option of all the wonderful choices on the Wheel. Personally, I’m really pleased. I’m sure you’ll provide lots of amusing entertainment for lots of days to come, and we’ll make a bit more money as people bet on how long you will last. Oh, and it is also likely the dildo will keep you hard for a while, which will be an amusing touch given the agony you will be enduring.”

Larry listened, but stoically did not comment or resist. He simply started to walk toward the cross, when a voice interrupted from off stage.

“Just a moment guys,” the voice interrupted. “I have a couple of adjustments to announce.” And with that Robert Gray, the show’s producer and Kevin’s long time business partner, walked on stage. Like everyone associated with the show he was an awesome physical specimen, very fit and handsome. He was wearing an outfit of the TKL leather that was so expensive and popular, and he turned to address Kevin.

“Before we proceed, I think it’s time to let everyone know who the new host is. So maybe Larry can stay there and contemplate the cross while we chat on the couch for a moment.”

Kevin was surprised, but had come to expect surprises form the producer, who was the purchaser of Kevin’s interest in the show and a frequent sexual partner for Kevin. They had met when Robert provided one of his male slave whores as the featured “guest” on the show, and the two men often enjoyed joint torture sessions and had similar preferences for the best recipes for young male meat. Kevin knew his sometimes partner was very creative.

“Sure, Robert. I’ve been really curious whom you’ve hired.” With that Kevin walked over to the talk-show style desk and couch that was always on the side of the stage. But instead of sitting at the desk as he usually did, both men sat on the couch.

“I think you’ll find this really amusing,” Robert began, smiling broadly. “Remember the fine print you pointed out to that piece of meat formerly known as Mike? And how you did pretty much the same kind of trick on poor Larry over there? Well, I’ve got a fun little fine print report for you. It’s in the contract you singed when you sold me your interest in the show. Actually, I not only bought the show, but I also bought you – as a participant in the show. I purchased the right to torture and kill you as part of the transition to a new host.”

Kevin was astonished. “But I read the contract, and there was nothing like that in there,” he protested. “And my lawyer read it too.”

“That’s actually where you made your mistake,” Mark informed him. “I bribed your lawyer by arranging for him to inherit a third of your wealth. I am very content with two-thirds, since I have so much I really don’t need any more. He also gets a third of your meat and other body parts once you’re dead, with me again getting the rest. So he agreed that he’d substitute a version of the contract that gives us your body and your assets at the last minute, so you would not realize what you were signing. Given all the times you’ve pulled that sort of trick on participants on the show, I think that’s pretty funny. Don’t you?”

Kevin was horrified, but knew he was doomed. There were tens of millions of people watching, and he was very focused on his reputation. He did not want to appear to be a coward or a bad sport. He also knew that there was literally no way out, since the stage crew would enforce the contract. He had frequently snuffed crew members when they made a mistake, or when he wanted their flesh, and that had built up a lot of resentment. They would enjoy whatever was scheduled to happen next, and make sure it happened. So he became resigned to his fate. “Well, what the hell. I know there’s no way out, and there is a little irony to it. So I guess we go over to the Wheel?”

“Nope, you fate is already determined,” Mark informed his victim. “I’ve also been researching a lot of potential replacement hosts, and frankly I have found that Larry has an unusual and unrecognized flare for both sadism and exhibitionism – just like you do. And as he’s just demonstrated, he shares your amazing ability to shoot load after load of cum, especially when the cameras are rolling. So he is the new host. Once he and I finish double-fucking your ass, like you and he did to Mike’s dead body, you’ll just take Larry’s place on the cross. As you had pointed out to him, it’s the longest and most painful means of death on the Wheel, and that is obviously appropriate for your snuff scene. I had the Wheel rigged to land on that option. Larry and I have timed it so you’ll die just about as we start filming next week’s show, and we’ll start the show by enjoying your best cuts of meat.”

Once Robert stripped naked to join in the fuck with Larry, the two of them had a rousing and enjoyable time jointly filling Kevin’s beautiful hole with their cum. They then led him over to the cross, which lay on the stage so he could lie down on it, arms outstretched. Kevin was a good sport, and didn’t resist as Larry and Mark each grabbed a hand and nailed it to a cross beam. They then positioned the dildo up Kevin’s recently fucked ass, and proceeded to each nail a foot to a little platform near the base of the cross. That, too, was designed to make it easier for Kevin to keep breathing, in order to prolong his suffering and their entertainment. The whole process got Kevin aroused, and as the cross was raised to a vertical position his cock became quite rigid. Larry and Robert looked forward to sharing the testicles that hung just below it, once Kevin finished dying and they started their new partnership as the new hosts of Thrill Kill Live! As the cameras rolled with the closing credits, they headed over to the couch for more sex, a dinner featuring fresh cuts of meat form Mike’s body, and the arousing view of Kevin’s body starting its long torment. It had been a great show, with many more to come.

He awoke in the trunk of the car as the chloroform wore off, terrified and confused. But as he heard the voices coming from the vehicle cab he realized it was the two men he had engaged briefly in the bar. His dick swelled in his pants despite the cramped and bumpy ride. They had made a reference to no-limits trips in their banter, and a playroom for special bottom men outside of town. “You’ll never have sex that good again in your life” they said. They had left way before him expressing the hope that their paths crossed again, he echoed the hope and said he’d love to see that playroom. He remembered now that he had seen the two men sitting in a parked car, and nodded to them as he passed. Not looking back, he hoped they would follow him and headed for an empty stretch of road through a small park, images of his desires rising from his imagination on a tide of adrenaline. Apparently they had followed him and taken the opportunity given.

Now bruised and battered he watched as all evidence of his identity went up in smoke at their rural compound. Excitement, anticipation, fear, and a strange sense of freedom all passed through him, and again his dick rose. The two tall, hard looking men watched from a distance and knew they had chosen well. They prodded the fire with sticks until the last vestiges of clothing and ID had been reduced to ash.

In the light of sunrise he got a better look at the two men he had been speaking to in the bar. Taller than he, lean and muscular and with lightly hairy bodies, they were not handsome, but were incredibly sexy with strong angular features. They both stretched and he could see the thick bush under their arms as well as the outline of large endowments under their pants. He was at full attention now, and they saw it. Even naked on the cold ground, hands tied, he wanted them, and what he knew they were offering. As if to tease him, one of the men pulled out his dick to piss on the ashes of his identity. “Please!” He called out to them. They knew what he wanted, and both men came over to soak his head in their hot piss, letting him drink when he opened his mouth for them.

Good boy!” One said when they were through, before kicking him hard in the balls. He groaned but spread his legs wider and leaned back to show he needed precisely that. And how much he needed it was a surprise even to him…fantasy finally about to be real. The man caressed his captive’s scrotum with the toe of his logger boots before settling the weight of his heel on the man’s balls. Captor and captive stared into each other’s eyes as the heel slowly crushed the tied man’s balls. His hard on did not go away and precum rolled out of the tip of his dick as the pain in his nuts grew. Both topmen smiled at this and the heel was withdrawn. “We’ll save those for later, but they are going to be ruined and taken”. “I’m Joe, and this is Skyler. You don’t have a name anymore.” They could have been brothers, they were certainly lovers, and one had his hand around the other’s shoulder, patting his stomach when he said his name.

“Do you know what we have in store for you?” Joe asked smiling broadly. “You’re going to torture and kill me.” They noticed how his balls rose and fell as he said that, additional indication of his arousal at the thought.

“Yes,” said Skyler, “fuck up that pretty body, ruin those big balls and cut them off, and live-gut you.” As he said live-gut he ran his own hand up and down his beautiful abdomen. The captive sucked in breath but said nothing. Skyler kicked him in the balls again and said “What do you think? Do you like the way that sounds?” The captive let out a yelp, but when he had gotten his breath back simply said. “Yes. Yes sir.”

Joe and Skyler pulled their genitals out from their jeans and each in his turn fucked the captive’s face coming deeply down his throat as he gagged and fought for breath. Sperm dripped down his chin and they wiped it on their fingers. They did not have to force him to lick the fingers clean. They untied him from the stake and when he made no attempt to run or fight, untied his hands. Again he made no effort to escape. They had seen seeming consent turn to fear and regret in other men, even men who thought they wanted this kind of thrill. Those men had been kept bound as they tortured and killed them: and killed them with great pleasure as they always did. To be on the safe side though, they gave their captive a locked collar and chain, and when not in use kept him locked up.

Taking him to the barn they hosed him down, hosed him out and then each one fucked him. He was surprised they could get hard again so soon after the blow job and eagerly milked their sperm out with his hole. Afterwards Joe used his fist to push the mingled sperm as far into his captive as he could, punching his balls with his free hand. They then hung him by his collar, hauling him up with the chain, until his hard dick shot and he passed out, and then they lowered and revived him, massaging his neck as he came to. They each kissed him hard on the lips relishing the taste of their mingled sperm in the captive’s mouth. Despite his having been hung, his dick rose again. Each took a long thick sewing needle of the kind that might be used to mend canvas or perhaps leather. Skyler pushed his through the captives left nipple while Joe simultaneously pierced his right. The captive moaned through gritted teeth as he was pierced and again, clear fluid dripped from his dick. They locked his chain to a pole near an old cot with a canteen of water and told the captive he was not to remove the needles under any circumstances. They had no idea how excited their captive was. Even after hours alone in the hot barn the pain in his nipples and ache in his balls kept him company and kept him aroused. There was no place to relieve himself, so when he needed to he pissed on his own naked body and that helped keep him excited as well.

It occurred to him with not a little surprise that with all this going on he had not had a moment of extreme fear since the terms of his captivity became clear. He felt certain that as the time of his gutting approached, there would have to be intense fear. But now all he felt was that odd freedom, a crazy pleasure in the pain his body was registering and the excitement of what he hoped was the sexual ultimate.

Later in the day Joe and Skyler returned, again bare chested and with their genitals exposed through their jeans. These were impressive men, absolute alphas in every way and clearly lovers of snuff. They were cruel but appreciative of their subject and how he took what they were dishing out. They let him clean their armpits with his tongue, and then their balls and holes and he was in heaven. They put additional needles through his nipples and around his pecs and gave him poppers for which he was very grateful. He moaned uncontrollably from the sensation of it and screamed loudly as they inserted pins into his abs and armpits. They loved the screaming, and pulled on the needles and squeezed his nipples until blood ran down his chest. They tied his scrotum tightly so his balls were tight within the sac’s skin and inserted brads into his balls, pushing the heads through the skin of the scrotum so they could not be removed. When his balls were full of them Joe gently cradled them in one hand and punched them with the other until they were soaked in blood and the blood dripped from Joe’s hand.

Through it all the captive moaned and thrashed, but he fought hard not to recoil from the pain. He had longed for precisely this it and still was amazed by his acceptance and lack of fear. His dick was hard and dripped constantly with precum. On two occasions he begged the two torturers to stop because he did not want to come. They had never had a man like this; a man who even knowing he was going to be killed relished the pleasure hidden in the torture they were giving him. They were surprised how much they liked it, usually relishing the change in their playmates as the end point of the play became real to them. They both fucked him again at this point, using his own blood as lube, and he pushed his ass up against them as they came, whimpering from the intense sensations in his body. They washed the congealing blood from his body with their piss and then hung him again until he came and passed out. He whispered “thank you” as they revived.

They left him alone again, chain locked to a post. He had not eaten in what may well have been 24 hours, he was not sure. But he was not hungry. He was hungry for these men: hungry to give them what they wanted and to please them in giving it. His body was a mass of pain, but the reality of his condition was so congruent with his years of fantasy that he knew he had chosen properly by allowing them to take him.

He must have slept, because when he opened his eyes it was sunrise again, and he was woken by them pissing on his face. He opened his mouth and drank as much of the fluid as he could and they were very demonstrative with their praise “GOOD boy!!” Skyler said, “Good Snuff-boy”.

They were wide awake and clearly very excited, this time naked, so he figured it could not be long now before the final play. They dragged him off of the cot and hosed him down with a cold hard stream of water. This accentuated the sting in his nipples and balls, still pierced with metal and by now very swollen. The sting got his dick hard in no time and he was ready to go, ready for the final act. They bent him over a table and again fucked him, each one pissing up his ass has they finished. They then laid him on his back and each one fisted him. Joe worked the sperm and piss as deeply as he could into the captive’s intestines. Skyler got in deep and worked the captive’s hole as hard as he could. He could feel the captive’s body open to him and see both the need and pain in his eyes. He whispered in the captive’s ear “I’m going to open my fist, puncture your guts and let that sperm and piss out into your abdomen. Get ready boy.” For a second his blood ran cold and then his desire exploded. “Please” he croaked through a dry throat. They gave him poppers and Skyler went to town ramming into the captive’s hole and destroying his intestines. The captive’s eyes went wide with the pain and his dick briefly shrunk, but quickly rose again and he could not look away from the arm tearing up his body. When Skyler’s arm came out it was covered in blood, and the captive had felt things he could not believe. He moaned loud and deep as Skyler went in again, his flat hand like a blade in the captive’s body. “Yeah boy, that’s it” said Skyler as he fucked his open hand in to the captive’s hole as hard as he could. “Take it fucker!” The captive arched his back to give Skyler access while Joe skull fucked him. The captive was delirious with desire for the taste of Joe’s sperm and he marveled at the pain that washed over him and coursed through his insides. There was no turning back at all. Even if they stopped, he’d be dead from infection within 24 hours and the realization thrilled and scared the shit out of him at the same time.

When they saw the captive was close they withdrew, and Skyler’s arm dripped with blood and intestinal mucous. There was no way that the captive could live, but the two men were not planning to let him anyway, and the captive was lost in the experience, barely able to think straight. Pain, pleasure, years of fantasy suddenly made real had him in another world. They laid him out flat and Joe finally pulled all the needles out of his nipples and pecs. He gave the captive a hit of poppers again and with pliers worked his nips until they were unrecognizable. The captive moaned and thrashed but kept his hands at his sides and watched, even as Skyler finally took a scalpel and cut the mutilated pieces of meat off his chest. They then turned their attention to the captives balls, still filled with metal, swollen and purple. Skyler tied them off tightly and hammered them until there was clearly no solid meat inside the scrotum. All three took a hit of poppers before Joe used his hunting knife to cut the scrotum off, the captive screaming hard and stiffening from the pain. He watched eyes wide, breathing hard and fast and did not hesitate to lick at his own balls as Skyler held them in front of his mouth and demanded it. Through it all his dick remained hard and dripped seminal fluid.

He was a little shocked at how weak he was when Joe and Skyler dragged him to his feet, but he felt exactly as he had thought he would if he ever reached this point. His intuition and imagination had lead him correctly to this place. He understood he was being killed, but the sexual excitement and feelings in his body were somehow right, somehow what he was meant to feel. His knees buckled under him from his body’s state and Joe and Skyler struggled briefly to keep him upright as they lead him to another part of the barn. “Easy boy, just a little longer and the fun reaches a peak”.

They help him to a rectangular frame and shackle his arms and legs, spread out with access to both front and rear. He is wild eyed but knows exactly what is going on. They shoot him up with speed and caverject to keep him conscious and hard to the very end and he manages to get a moan of pure pleasure out as the drugs take hold. He is excited and ready for what he has dreamed of for so long, and with the drugs giving him strength, braces himself as they both begin to whip him. Skyler at the front and Joe at the back, they whip him till his body is raw and pink and streaks of blood begin to appear. They put the whips down and piss on his wounds, Skyler mounting a ladder to piss in the captive’s eagerly opened mouth. They bring out the gutting tool and the captive seeing this moans in anticipation, and if it is even possible his dick gets harder still. With one hand Joe works the captive’s dick as the other gently pushes the first blade into the captive’s abdomen just where his pubic hair ends. Blood begins to flow lazily, flowing over the captive’s dick and Joe’s hand before dripping to the floor. Joe works the dick carefully, not wanting to bring the man to orgasm too soon. He loves this part, loves the killing. When he has pierced the membrane below the muscle he gets the hooked blade in as the captive watches, unable to look away from his own butchering. Then he works quickly bringing the blade up to the sternum as the captive gasps from the feeling. The captive leans forward as best he can, straining to watch and in so doing opens the incision allowing his entrails to tumble out onto his dick and Joe’s hand. “Oh FUCK, oh Jesus!!!” he screams as his death orgasm erupts. All three of them look in each other’s eyes, bound together by the intensity and of this act and one after the other they come. The captive’s entrails sag to the ground and Skyler reaches into the body cavity to caress him from the inside. The Captive moans uncontrollably as he feels the hand inside him and is lost in a roiling mass of sensation that he never could have imagined. Time stands still as the last of his semen is squeezed out of his prostate by the intensity of the orgasm. Joe shoves the barrel of a gun into the captive’s mouth and blows his brains out just as he figures the man’s orgasm is fading. Another huge string of sperm erupts as the body slumps. Joe and Skyler fall into each other’s arms and fuck like the animals, as a fine mist of blood and brains falls on their sweaty bodies.